UNIVERSITY  OF  CAIiIFORNIA  PRIZE  ESSAYS 


VOLUME  I 


THE 

TRUXTUN  BEALE   PRIZE   ESSAYS 

ON 

TOLSTOY'S  WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  THEN? 


UNIVERSITY  OP  CALIFORNIA  PRESS 

BERKELEY 

1912 


y\  \^  SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

S^lo  57173 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 
Introductory  Note  5 

Tolstoy  and  the  Social  Problems   of   Today,  by  Bayard   Hale 
Jones    7 

The  Value  of  Tolstoy's  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  to  the  Present  Re- 
building of  the  Social  Structure,  by  Sheldon  Warren  Cheney.  55 

The  Value  of  the  Ideal  of  Social  Reconstruction  set  forth  in  Tol- 
stoy's WJmt  Shall  We  Bo  Then?,  by  Stith  Thompson 123 

Tolstoy's  What  Shall  We  Do  Then? — A  Problem  and  an  Attempt 
at  a  Solution,  by  Newton  Bishop  Drury 177 

The  Social  Validity  of  Tolstoy's  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  by  Lillian 
Ruth  Matthews  219 


[3] 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

In  March,  1911,  Mr.  Truxtun  Beale,  a  member  of  the  Board  of 
Regents,  gave  to  the  University  of  California  the  sum  of  one  thousand 
dollars,  to  be  used  for  a  first  prize  of  six  hundred  dollars,  and  a  second 
prize  of  four  hundred  dollars,  for  essays  on  the  work  of  Leo  Tolstoy, 
What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  At  the  suggestion  of  the  committee  placed 
in  charge  of  these  prizes,  the  competition  was  made  open  to  students  in 
any  department  of  the  University  of  California,  and  to  holders  of  a 
bachelor's  degree  of  a  date  not  earlier  than  May,  1908.  The  choice 
of  the  more  particular  subjects  for  the  essays  was  left  to  the 
writers,  with  the  restriction  that  each  essay  must  deal  with  the 
fundamental  ideas  of  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  not  merely  with  its 
style  or  literary  form  or  with  insignificant  details  of  its  subject- 
matter. 

Twenty  essays  were  presented  in  competition  for  the  Truxtun 
Beale  Prizes.  Professor  Leo  Wiener  of  Harvard  University  (depart- 
ment of  Slavic  Languages),  Professor  A.  G.  Newcomer  of  the  Leland 
Stanford  Junior  University  (department  of  English),  and  Professor 
W.  C.  Mitchell  of  the  University  of  California  (department  of 
Economics)  kindly  consented  to  act  as  judges.  They  awarded  the 
first  prize  to 

Bayard  Hale  Jones,  A.B.,  1906, 
a  student  in  the  Graduate  School, 
and  the  second  prize  to 

Sheldon  Warren  Cheney,  A.B.,  1908. 
Of  the  following  persons  they  made  honorable  mention,  and  recom- 
mended that  their  essays  be  published  together  with  those  to  which 
prizes  were  awarded: 

Stith  Thompson,  A.B.  (University  of  Wisconsin),  1909, 
a  student  in  the  Graduate  School; 

Newton  Bishop  Drury,  of  the  class  of  1912; 

Lillian  Ruth  Matthews,  Ph.B.  (University  of  Iowa),  1903, 
a  student  in  the  Graduate  School; 

Mart  Ada  Pence,  A.B.  1910. 

[5] 


The  Editorial  Committee  of  the  University  of  California,  acting 
on  the  recommendation  of  the  committee  in  charge  of  the  Truxtun 
Beale  Prizes,  voted  to  establish  a  Prize  Essay  Series,  of  which  these 
six  essays  should  constitute  the  first  volume.  In  a  revised  form  the 
first  five  of  them  are  now  printed;  Miss  Pence  withdrew  her  essay 
from  publication. 

The  present  volume  may  thus  be  regarded  as  fairly  representa- 
tive of  the  best  thought  upon  social  themes  of  the  students  and  the 
younger  graduates  of  the  University  of  California.  It  commemorates 
Mr.  Beale 's  generosity  and  his  interest  in  the  intellectual  welfare 
of  the  University,  and  is  at  the  same  time  an  indication  of  the 
stimulating  power  of  the  writings  of  Leo  Tolstoy. 


16] 


TOLSTOY  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS  OF  TODAY 

BY 

BAYARD  HALE  JONES, 
A.B.,  1906;  M.A.,  1907 


CONTENTS 

I.  The  Great  Precursor 9 

II.  What  Shall  We  Do  Then? 11 

III.  Tolstoy's  Place  in  Russian  Thought 21 

IV.  Criticism  of  Tolstoy's  Thought 25 

(a)   View  of  Society  25 

(&)   Economic  Theory  29 

(c)  Sociological   Theory   36 

(d)  Conclusions  40 

V.  The  Problems  of  Today 42 


[8] 


TOLSTOY  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS 
OF  TODAY 


I.  THE  GREAT  PRECURSOR 

The  voice  of  him  that  crieth  in  the  wilderness,  Prepare  ye  the 
way  of  the  Lord,  make  straight  in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our 
God. 

Every  valley  shall  be  exalted,  and  every  mountain  and  hill  shall 
be  made  low:  and  the  crooked  shall  be  made  straight,  and  the  rougi 
places  plain: 

And  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed,  and  all  flesh  shall 
see  it   together. — Isa.  xl.   3-5. 

And  he  shall  go  before  Him  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elias,  to 
turn  the  hearts  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and  the  disobedient 
to  the  wisdom  of  the  just;  to  make  ready  a  people  prepared  for 
the  Lord. — Luke  i.    17. 

Then  said  he  to  the  multitude  .  .  .  .,  O  generation  of  vipers,  who 
hath  warned  you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come? 

Bring  forth  therefore  fruits  worthy  of  repentance.  .  .  . 

And  now  also  the  axe  is  laid  unto  the  root  of  the  trees:  every 
tree  therefore  which  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down, 
and  cast  into  the  fire. 

And  the  people  asked  him,  saying,  What  shall  we  do  then? 

He  answereth  and  saith  unto  them,  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let 
him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none;  and  he  that  hath  meat,  let  him 
do  likewise. — Luke  iii.    7-11. 

There  was  a  man  sent  from  God.  .  .  . 

The  same  came  for  a  witness,  to  bear  witness  of  the  Light,  that 
all  men  might  believe. 

He  was  not  that  Light,  but  was  sent  to  bear  witness  of  that  Light. 

That  was  the  true  Light,  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world. — John  i.    6-9. 


[9] 


10  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 

Russia  is  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It 
has  been  the  latest  of  all  the  European  nations  to  awake 
to  the  modern  day.  A  horde  of  barbarians  at  the  accession 
of  Peter  the  Great,  its  development  as  a  modern  nation 
has  been  a  recent  matter.  Hampered  always  by  the  fetters 
of  an  intolerable  autocracy,  it  is  not  strange  that  it  is  still 
behind  other  countries.  Its  means  of  communication 
are  primitive  and  inadequate.  Natural  resources  have  been 
developed,  if  at  all,  largely  by  foreign  enterprise,  as  with 
the  great  holdings  of  American  capitalists  in  the  Russian 
petroleum  fields.  Even  agriculture  is  at  the  lowest  ebb 
of  efficiency  of  any  country  of  Europe.  There  is  no  univer- 
sal system  of  popular  education.  The  Church  is  still 
medieval  in  method,  organization,  and  spirit.  And  feudal- 
ism is  still  entrenched  in  the  enormous  holdings  of  the 
grand  dukes. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  a  nation  of  enormous  latent  forces. 
Physically,  its  people  are  the  cream  of  Europe,  sound  and 
strong,  the  result  of  generations  of  honest  labor,  unspoiled 
by  the  taints  of  luxury  and  dissipation — own  brothers  of 
the  Vikings  and  the  Goths.  Morally,  they  are  sober,  de- 
vout, hard-working,  deeply  in  earnest;  and  under  all 
repression  they  have  cherished  the  lurking  fire  of  a  high 
and  passionate  spirit,  whose  courage  and  whose  imagina- 
tion may  some  day  lead  the  world. 

It  is  this  nation  whose  voice  we  hear  in  Tolstoy.  It  is 
the  voice  of  genius  indeed,  but  of  a  genius  undisciplined, 
only  partly  civilized.  There  is  the  primitive  standpoint,  the 
simple  passion  for  justice,  the  fierce  indignation  at  the 
wrongs  of  the  social  order,  the  naive  struggle  for  the  light. 
It  is  a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness, — barbaric  possibly, 
but  aflame  with  the  passion  for  righteousness,  preaching 
a  gospel  of  repentance  to  an  unrighteous  and  degenerate 
age :  a  message,  to  be  sure,  largely  negative  and  partial,  for 
he  himself  is  not  the  true  Light,  but  the  herald  of  a  new 
era.  And  he  seems  singularly  like  that  other  great  Pre- 
cursor, who  came  "in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elias,"  to 
preach  his  gospel  of  repentance  unto  life. 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  11 

The  one  fact  that  stands  out  most  plainly  in  his  work 
is  the  extraordinary  vividness  of  its  presentation.  It  is  the 
voice  of  a  prophet,  an  apostle,  a  reformer,  with  a  burning 
message  to  the  souls  of  men.  He  speaks  with  the  authority 
of  conscience.  Society  must  be  reconstructed  from  the 
bottom  upward.  All  men  must  utterly  change  their 
thoughts  and  lives.  It  is  not  a  mere  sociologist  who  is 
speaking  to  us :  it  is  the  Tolstoy  of  the  great  epic  novels, 
the  Tolstoy  of  titanic  emotions,  the  Tolsto^^  who  "thinks 
in  facts.  "^ 

For  it  is  true  that  his  system  was  not  the  result  of 
abstract  theorizing,  but  the  immediate,  and,  to  him,  inevit- 
able deduction  from  the  most  concrete  experiences.  And 
this  is  detailed  in  What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf 

II.  WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  THEN? 

All  of  Tolstoy's  life,  he  tells  us,  had  been  passed  in  The  Poor 
the  country,  until  he  moved  to  Moscow  in  the  year  1881.  "      "^''"^ 
Then,   for  the  first  time,  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  the  problem  of  the  very  poor  in  a  great  city. 

He  set  himself  to  investigate  the  fifty  thousand  desti- 
tute of  Moscow.  He  visited  the  Lyapinski  House,  one  of 
the  free  night-lodging  houses  by  which  wealthy  philan- 
thropists have  tried  to  mitigate  the  miseries  of  the  home- 
less poor.  In  ruinous  rags  and  unmistakable  wretchedness, 
these  people  crowded  around  him ;  and  in  his  sympathy, 
he  first  gave  them  warm  drink,  then  money — and  very 
naturally  precipitated  a  small  riot,  and  went  home  feeling 
ashamed  of  himself. 

There  I  entered  along  the  carpeted  steps  into  the  rug-covered 
hall,  and,  having  taken  off  my  fur  coat,  sat  down  to  a  meal  of  five 
courses,  served  by  two  footmen  in  livery,  with  white  ties  and  white 
gloves.2 


iM.  Walter,  Tolstoi   (Zurich,  1906),  p.  5. 

2  Tolstoy,  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  translated  by  I.  F.  Hapgood  (New 
York,  Crowell,  1899),  p.  13;  cf.  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  translated 
by  Leo  Wiener   (Boston,  Estes,  1905),  p.  14. 


12 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 


I  realized  not  only  with  my  brain,  but  in  every  pulse  of  my  soul, 
that,  whilst  there  were  thousands  of  such  sufferers  in  Moscow,  I 
with  tens  of  thousands  of  others  filled  myself  daily  to  repletion 
with  luxurious  dainties  of  every  description,  took  the  tenderest  care 
of  my  horses,  and  clothed  my  very  floor  with  velvet  carpets!  .... 
Yet  I  .  .  .  .  therefore  felt,  and  feel,  and  can  never  cease  to  feel, 
myself  a  partaker  in  a  crime  which  is  continually  being  committed, 
so  long  as  I  have  superfluous  food  while  others  have  none,  so  long 
as  I  have  two  coats  whilst  there  exists  one  man  without  any.3 


Charities 


Labor   and 
Happiness 


Something  must  be  done;  and  Tolstoy  launched  into 
a  scheme  of  charitable  relief,  soliciting  money  from  the 
rich  to  aid  the  poor,  and  collecting  social  data  in  connec- 
tion with  the  current  official  census  to  guide  him,  in  order 
that  they,  the  rich,  might  go  on  living  in  all  their  luxury, 
without  being  rebuked  by  the  acute  misery  of  the  poor. 

One  of  the  first  facts  that  impressed  itself  upon  him  in 
this  work  w^as  that  the  need  of  these  people  was  not 
only  for  the  necessities  of  life,  but  for  life  itself :  that  their 
existence  was  not  confined  to  working,  eating,  and  sleeping, 
but  comprised  also  leisure  and  pleasure;  and  that  any 
intelligent  plan  of  helping  them  must  comprehend  these 
too.  In  other  words,  they  were  human,  just  like  himself; 
how  could  he  help  them? 

And  though  the  census  officials  found  many  cases  of 
poverty  and  privation,  their  interrogations  repeatedly 
brought  out  the  fact  that  the  outright  gift  of  money  would 
be  either  useless  or  positively  harmful.  Some  of  them  were 
happy  enough  as  they  were ;  and  those  who  were  not  w^ould 
be  unhappy  still,  under  changed  surroundings,  since  the 
cause  of  their  unhappiness  lay  within  them. 

Some  had  formerly  been  in  a  privileged  position  ("I 
call  such  persons  privileged  who  receive  more  from  others 
than  they  give  in  return"*)  ;  and  these,  amiable  and  weak, 
he  could  not  help  as  long  as  their  conception  of  life  re- 
mained the  same.    For  they  did  not  differ  in  any  essential 


3  yVhat  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  13,  14  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  15). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  13 

from  the  rich  people  about  them,  since  the  rich  also  "are 
discontented  with  their  lot,  and  regret  the  past,  and  desire 
a  happier  future,  precisely  as  did  the  wretched  tenants 
of  the  Rzhanov  houses.  Both  wish  to  work  less,  and  to  be 
worked  for  more,  the  difference  between  them  being  only 
in  degrees  of  idleness."^ 

The  wretchedness  of  the  women  of  the  town  also  was 
due  to  the  same  fundamental  fault,  to  a  conception  of  life 
that  made  it  possible  for  them  to  live  upon  others'  exer- 
tions instead  of  their  own ;  and  here  again  Tolstoy  finds 
a  terrible  parallel  in  the  futile  lives  of  wealthy  women,  who 
are  also  content  to  exist,  avoiding  family  duties  and  the 
obligation  of  labor. 

And  even  in  any  attempt  to  do  anything  for  the  chil- 
dren, w^e  find  the  same  trouble.  The  moment  we  try  to 
take  them  out  of  their  old  environment,  and  educate  them 
in  ours,  they  are  bound  to  follow  our  example  in  the  face 
of  our  precept.  We  cannot  teach  a  child  the  fundamental 
lesson  of  life,  "^.e.,  how  to  take  less  from  others,  and  give 
more  in  return, ' '  ^  when  he  sees  that  it  is  possible  for  him 
"in  a  respectable  position,  to  live  without  working,  eat 
and  drink  well,  and  lead  a  merry  life. ' '  ^  And  ' '  to  teach 
him  how  to  earn  his  living  is,  for  us  who  have  not  been 
earning  ours,  but  have  been  doing  just  the  contrary,  not 
only  difficult,  but  quite  impossible. ' '  ^ 

But  at  last  he  found  what  he  "had  been  looking  for, —  Collapse  of 

°  '  Tolstoy's   Plan 

a  hungry  being,"  ^  in  the  person  of  a  starving  woman  of 
the  town.  He  gave  her  a  ruble ;  and  then  in  the  self-gratu- 
lation  of  this  deed  proceeded  to  distribute  alms  indiscrim- 
inately to  everybody  around  him — and  of  course  evoked 
another  disgraceful  mob  of  beggars ;  and  then  went  home  in 


*Ibid.,  p.  50  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  58). 
^  Ibid.,  p.  34   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  39). 
6  Ibid.,  p.  44  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  50). 
■!  Ibid.,  p.  42    (tr.  Wiener,  p.   49). 
^Ibid.,  p.   43    (tr.  Wiener,  p.   50). 
0  Ibid.,  p.  45    (tr.  Wiener,   p.   52). 


14  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

disgust,  very  correctly  feeling  that ' '  each  one  of  them  .... 
regarded  me  only  as  a  purse  out  of  which  money  could 
be  abstracted."^"  He  did  not  have  the  heart  to  collect 
the  subscriptions  which  his  rich  friends  had  made  at  his 
instance;  and  found  himself  finally  with  some  thirty-seven 
rubles — his  own  pay  and  that  of  some  of  his  assistants  in 
the  Census — which  he  felt  he  must  distribute.  This  he 
finally  accomplished,  very  unsatisfactorily,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  an  innkeeper,  and  with  the  full  consciousness  that 
every  kopek  of  it  would  go  for  drink. 

Thus  ended  all  my  benevolent  enterprises;  and  I  left  for  the 
country,  vexed  with  everyone,  as  it  always  happens  when  one  does 
something  foolish  and  harmful.  Nothing  came  of  it  all,  except  the 
train  of  thoughts  and  feelings  which  it  called  forth  in  me,  which 
not  only  did  not  cease,  but  doubly  agitated  my  mind.n 

' '  What  did  it  all  mean  ? "  In  the  country,  his  charities 
had  really  helped  others,  and  satisfied  himself.    But  here : 

Meaning  of  I  saw  in  these  dens  ....  men  whom  it  was  impossible  for  me 

the  Failure  to  help,  because  they  were  working-men,  accustomed  to  labor  and 
privation,  and  therefore  having  a  much  firmer  hold  on  life  than  I 
had.  On  the  other  hand,  I  saw  miserable  men  whom  I  could  not 
aid  because  they  were  just  such  as  I  was  myself.  The  majority  of 
the  poor  whom  I  saw  were  wretched,  merely  because  they  had  lost 
the  capacity,  desire,  and  habit  of  earning  their  bread;  in  other 
words,  their  misery  consisted  in  the  fact  that  they  were  just  like 
myself.  .  .  .  And  my  principal  conviction  now  was  that,  with  money, 
I  could  never  reform  the  life  of  misery  which  these  people  led. 12 

lie  could  no  longer  be  content  to  deal  with  vague  moral 
aphorisms,  but  was  compelled  to  deduce  clearly  the  meaning 
of  his  actual  experience,  and  then  firmly  apply  it  in  his  own 
life. 


10  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  47  (tr  Wiener,  p.  54). 

11  Ibid.,  p.  53  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  61). 
^2  Ibid.,  p.  54  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  64). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  arid  Social  Problems  15 

What,  then,  was  the  secret  of  city  misery?  The  coun-  Causes  of 
try  people  will  tell  you  that  they  came  from  the  country  '  ^  '^^"^^ 
to  the  city  to  get  a  living.  But  how  can  this  be,  when  the 
country  is  the  real  source  of  all  wealth?  Evidently,  it  can 
only  mean  that  we  have  taken  the  natural  wealth  away  from 
the  country  by  some  unfair  means.  The  peasant  follows 
it  to  the  city,  to  regain  his  share  of  it,  and  is  then  cor- 
rupted by  the  example  of  the  idle  and  dissolute  lives  that 
he  sees  there. 

Therefore,  real  charity  is  impossible,  for  the  peasant  can 
see  in  me  only  "one  of  those  persons  who  have  become  pos- 
sessed of  what  should  belong  to  him.  And  what  other  feel- 
ing can  he  have  toward  me  but  the  desire  to  get  back  as 
many  as  possible  of  these  rubles  which  were  taken  by  me 
from  him  and  from  others. ' '  ^^  Charity  can  take  place 
only  through  personal  contact  and  influence :  yet  all  our 
wealth,  our  etiquette,  dress,  dwellings,  traveling,  excessive 
cleanliness,  exclusive  education,  are  so  many  impassible  bar- 
riers between  us.  And  the  rich  can  never  really  help  the 
poor,  as  long  as  they  retain  possession  of  the  magic  purse 
with  the  never-failing  ruble,  which  allows  them  to  live  idly 
on  the  labors  of  others.  For  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
problem  is  the  iniquity  of  money. 

Money,  says  Tolstoy,  is  not  a  representative  of  labor.  Factors  of 
or  a  medium  of  exchange.    Nor  is  it  one  of  a  natural  divi-  Production 
sion  of  the  factors  of  production,  into  land,   labor,  and 
capital;  for  no  such  division  is  valid.     A  laborer  is  not 
a  laborer   without   the   tools   with   which   he   works — i.e., 
capital — and  without  land  on  which  to  work. 

In  other  words,  science  recognizes  as  a  right  that  which  has  never 
existed,  and  cannot  exist,  and  which  is  in  itself  a  contradiction, 
because  the  claim  of  the  landowner  to  the  land  on  which  he  does 
not  labor  is  in  essence  nothing  more  than  the  right  to  use  the  land 
which  he  does  not  use;   the  claim  on  the  tools  of  others  is  nothing 


13  Ibid.,  p.  68  (tr.  "Wiener,  p.  80). 


16 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 


more  than  a  man  assuming  a  right  to  work  with  implements  with 
which  he  does  not  work. 

The  question  of  economic  science  is  this:  What  is  the  reason 
of  the  fact  that  some  men  by  means  of  money  acquire  an  imaginary 
right  to  the  land  and  capital,  and  may  make  slaves  of  those  men 
who  have  no  money?  The  answer  which  presents  itself  to  common 
sense  would  be  that  it  is  the  result  of  money,  the  nature  of  which 
is  to  enslave  men.i* 


The  Slavery 
of  Money 


Defenses  of 
Present  Stati 


Among  primitive  peoples,  money  does  not  exist.  But 
invaders  come,  and  carry  off  plunder;  come  again,  and 
appropriate  the  land,  making  the  people  their  serfs.  Final- 
ly, they  levy  a  forced  tax  in  some  arbitrary  medium  of 
exchange.     This  is  money. 

Such  has  been  the  general  history  of  civilization.  In 
the  ancient  world,  personal  slavery  was  the  prevailing 
mode ;  in  the  Middle  Ages,  feudalism,  or  the  servitude  based 
on  land-ownership ;  and  in  modern  times,  with  the  increase 
of  gold,  money.  In  brief:  "Money  is  an  inoffensive  medium 
of  exchange  only  when  it  is  not  collected  with  violence,  or 
when  loaded  guns  are  not  directed  from  the  seashore 
against  the  defenseless  inhabitants. ' '  ^^ 

The  means  of  this  slavery  is  hu7iger:  for  the  rich  once 
having  gotten  possession  of  the  necessities  of  life  (just  as 
in  the  biblical  story  of  Joseph  and  the  corn  of  Egypt),  can 
compel  those  who  lack  them  to  do  their  will,  or  starve.  And 
in  this  state  of  affairs,  w^hoever  owns  property  becomes  pos- 
sessed of  this  same  power  of  life  and  death,  and  is  a  partici- 
pator in  the  tyranny. 

Realizing  these  patent  iniquities  of  the  present  social 
order,  we  can  no  longer  accept  any  of  the  historical 
justifications  that  have  been  made  for  it.  Of  these,  the 
oldest  is  the  Church-Christian,  according  to  which  some 
are  ordained  of  God  to  rule,  and  others  to  obey.  This  arose 
as  soon  as  men  began  to  confuse  the  simple  ethical  teach- 


14  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  91  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  108). 
i'ilbid.,  p.  103  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  120). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  17 

ings  of  Christ  with  the  dogmas  of  the  Church,  and  to  think 
that  as  long  as  they  accepted  the  dogmas,  they  could  "con- 
tinue to  live  in  an  evil  way,  and  none  the  less  be 
Christians. ' '  ^^ 

The  second  is  the  State-philosophical,  the  fruit  of 
Hegelian  idealism,  whereby  the  State  is  the  result  of  a 
genetic  idea,  and  the  expression  of  a  developing  person- 
ality; and  hence  necessary  and  right.  The  popularity  of 
this  theory  also  depended  on  the  fact  that  it  too  "justified 
men  in  their  bad  mode  of  life."  ^^ 

Finally,  the  Science  of  the  present  day,  boasting  itself 
the  first  and  only  really  scientific  science,  based  solely  on 
facts,  claims  to  find  that  the  State  is  an  organism,  with  an 
appropriate  division  of  function  between  its  various  organs : 
so  that  "some  men  perform  in  societies  the  muscular  part 
of  labor,  and  others  the  mental. ' '  ^^  But  the  result  of  this 
theory  is  that  even  idleness  is  comprehended  in  its  organic 
division ;  the  present  unrighteous  condition  is  approved  just 
as  it  stands ;  and  men  are  justified,  again,  in  their  immoral 
lives. 

For  even  if  a  di\'ision  of  labor  is  natural  to  all  societies,  Di'<'ision 

of  Labor 

we  must  still  ask,  Is  the  existing  division  the  proper  one? 
We  must  apply  one  test  to  every  activity, — "the  demand 
of  such  labor  by  other  men,  and  a  voluntary  compensation 
offered  for  it  by  them.  "^^  And  as  long  as  there  remain 
people  who  exempt  themselves  from  the  common  duty  of 
laboring  without  the  general  consent  of  the  laborers,  and 
in  defiance  of  their  just  demand  for  their  services,  then 
just  so  long  this  "division  of  labor"  cannot  be  called 
organic. 

Hence  our  present  education  is  unjustifiable,  in  that  Education 
the  young  of  the  privileged  classes  are  enabled  to  spend 
many  years  of  their  lives  in  acquiring  an  education  at  the 


10  Ibid.,  p.  185  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  224). 
T-T  Ibid.,  p.  189   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  227). 
isjbtd.,  p.  184   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  223). 
i^  Ibid.,  p.  203  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  244). 


18  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

expense  of  the  laborers,  merely  on  their  promise  to  do  them 
some  unintelligible  and  undesired  service  in  the  future. 
Not  only  is  the  recompense  thus  exacted  before  the  ser- 
vice, but  the  system  of  education  itself  is  hopelessly  out 
of  tune  with  its  object. 

Chiefly  they  pass  their  best  years  in  losing  the  habit  of  life,  that 
is,  of  laboring,  and  accustom  themselves  to  consider  their  own  posi- 
tion justified,  and  thus  become  physically  good-for-nothing  parasites, 
and  mentally  dislocate  their  brains,  and  lose  all  power  of  thought- 
productiveness.2o 

We  are  still  conversing  among  ourselves,  and  teaching  each  other, 
and  amusing  ourselves,  and  have  quite  forgotten  them  [the  people]  : 
....  we  study  them  and  represent  them  for  our  own  pleasure  and 
amusement:  we  have  quite  forgotten  that  it  is  our  duty,  not  to 
study  and  depict,  but  to  serve  them. 21 

Science  Likewise,  the  much-lauded  advances  of  science,  some- 

times cited  as  a  defense  of  the  present  organization  of 
society,  represent  only  the  incidental  benefits  of  an  actual 
evil.  The  workingman  is  really  worse  off  than  before.  A 
peasant  may  ride  on  the  railway  instead  of  walking;  but 
that  very  railway  has  destroyed  his  forest,  and  carried 
away  his  bread  from  under  his  very  nose.  There  are  tele- 
graphs "which  he  is  not  forbidden  to  use,  but  which  he 
does  not  use  because  he  cannot  afford  it, "  ^^  by  means  of 
which  his  produce  is  bought  up  at  low  prices  before  he 
knows  it  is  in  demand.  He  can  buy  cheap — and  poor — 
machine-made  calico ;  yet  these  same  machines  have  en- 
slaved him.  The  harm  is  real,  the  benefit  triflng.  The  fact 
that  we  can  light  our  pipes  with  the  coals  of  a  conflagration 
does  not  make  the  conflagration  beneficial. 

True  Art  To  bc  sure,  there  is  a  true  "science — human  reasonable 

activity — and  art, — the  expression  of  this  reasonable   ac- 


20  II  hat  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  206  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  248). 

21  Ibid.,  p.  210   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  253). 

22  Ibid.,  p.  215  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  259). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  19 

tivity. ' '  -^  For  ' '  science  and  art  are  as  necessary  to  men 
as  food,  drink,  and  clothes, — even  still  more  necessary  than 
these. ' '  -*  And  above  all,  there  is  a  science  of  sciences, 
the  science  of  life  and  conduct;  and  a  universal  art,  the 
expression  of  this  science.  This  is  religion.  But  the  cur- 
rent so-called  science  and  art  are  not  really  such,  because 
they  do  not  have  men's  welfare  at  heart;  and  they  can 
never  come  into  their  rightful  place  until  they  become  com- 
pletely altruistic. 

And  so  to  right  the  great  social  inequality,  we  must  Property 
attack  the  basis  of  it,  property,  which,  Tolstoy  says,  is  ''the 
root  of  all  evil. ' '  -^  For  ' '  we  know  ....  that  property  is 
only  the  means  of  utilizing  other  men's  labor.  And  an- 
other's labor  can  by  no  means  belong  to  me.  .  .  .  Man  has 
always  been  calling  his  own  that  which  is  subject  to  his 
own  will  and  joined  with  his  own  consciousness. ' '  -**  Yet 
the  only  thing  that  is  truly  one's  property,  in  this  sense, 
subject  to  him  alone,  and  not  to  be  taken  away  by  anyone 
else,  is  his  own  body.  All  other  property  is  a  fiction  and 
a  delusion. 

So  in  the  light  of  this  philosophy  of  experience,  Tolstoy's  Tolstoy's 
duty  became  perfectly  plain  to  him.     Conventional  philan- 
thropy was  impossible. 

I  wished  to  help  the  needy,  only  because  I  had  money  to  spare; 
and  I  shared  the  general  superstition  that  money  is  the  represen- 
tative of  labor,  and,  generally  speaking,  something  lawful  and  good 
in  itself.  But,  having  begun  to  give  this  money  away,  I  saw  that 
I  was  only  drawing  bills  of  exchange  collected  by  me  from  poor 
people;  that  I  was  doing  the  very  thing  the  old  landlords  used 
to  do  in  compelling  some  of  their  serfs  to  work  for  other  serfs.27 

The  true  solution  is  much  simpler.  It  is  what  ethical 
leaders  have  always  taught.     Its  essence  is  contained  in 


Solution 


23  Ibid.,  p.  225   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  272). 
2ilbid.,  p.  226    (tr.  Wiener,  p.  272). 
2^  Ibid.,  p.  266  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  318). 
2Qlbid.,  p.  266   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  319). 
2T  Ibid.,  p.  136   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  165). 


20  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         ["Vol.  i 

the  answer  of  John  the  Baptist  to  the  question  put  him 
by  his  would-be  followers  in  the  desert,  "What  shall  we 
do  then ? " :  "He  that  hath  two  coats,  let  him  impart  to  him 
that  hath  none;  and  he  that  hath  meat,  let  him  do  like- 
wise. "^^.  It  is  the  gospel  of  renunciation  and  altruism.  "I 
understood  that  man,  besides  living  for  his  own  good,  must 
work  for  the  good  of  others."^®  "I  came  to  the  simple 
and  natural  conclusion,  that  if  I  pity  the  exhausted  horse 
on  whose  back  I  ride,  the  first  thing  for  me  to  do,  if  I 
really  pity  him,  is  to  get  off  him  and  walk. ' '  ^°  He  must 
no  longer  take  part  in  the  enslaving  of  men.  He  must 
follow  the  answer  of  the  Precursor,  "not  to  have  more  than 
one  coat,  and  not  to  possess  money, — that  is,  not  to  profit 
by  another  man's  labor;  and  in  order  not  to  utilize  an- 
other's labor,  we  must  do  with  our  own  hands  all  that  we 
can  do. ' '  ^^ 

Thus  he  must  share  in  "the  first  and  unquestionable 
duty  of  a  man  .  .  .  .,  to  take  part  in  the  struggle  with 
nature  for  his  own  life,  and  for  the  lives  of  other  men. ' '  ^- 
In  other  words,  he  must  earn  his  own  living  from  the  soil, 
serve  himself,  and  make  his  intangible  intellectual  activities 
an  avocation  only. 

This  program,  if  conscientiously  carried  out,  would  turn 
the  idlers  into  producers,  and  abolish  all  the  misery  they 
have  caused;  would  give  all  men  a  normal  and  vital  exist- 
ence; would  reunite  the  alienated  strata  of  society  in  a 
common  brotherhood ;  and  would  remove  the  danger  of  that 
explosion  of  the  suppressed  forces,  that  socialistic  revolution 
that  is  always  imminent  throughout  Europe,  especially  in 
a  country  like  Russia,  which  "has  no  safety-valves."  ^^    So 


28  Luke  iii.  10,  11;   What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  137    (tr.  Wiener,  p. 
166). 

29  What  Is  To  Be  Bone?  p.  138   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  167). 
so  Ibid.,  p.  141   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  171). 

SI  Ibid.,  p.  142  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  172). 
32  Ibid.,  p.  246  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  295). 
S3  Ibid.,  p.  262  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  314). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  21 

gradually,  good  men  will  join  this  movement:  "and  thus 
it  will  come  to  pass  that  men  will  cease  to  ruin  themselves, 
and  will  find  out  happiness."^* 

In  this  they  will  find  their  inspiration  in  woman,  who 
does  her  duty  to  her  uttermost,  in  a  self-sacrificing  labor 
that  is  its  O'uti  perfect  reward,  putting  to  shame  the  idle 
and  unjust  life  of  man:  and  in  her  hands,  says  Tolstoy, 
"more  than  in  those  of  any  others,  lies  the  salvation  of 
the  world.  "35 


III.  TOLSTOY'S  PLACE  IN  RUSSIAN  THOUGHT 

Such  is  Tolstoy's  argument  in  itself.  Yet  in  spite  of 
all  its  convincing  immediacy,  its  deep  seriousness,  and 
its  direct  force,  we  shall  not  get  a  correct  estimate  of  the 
real  significance  of  Tolstoy's  philosophy  if  we  attempt  to 
interpret  it  in  and  for  itself.  Its  partial  and  inadequate 
character  becomes  too  promptly  and  painfully  evident ;  and 
we  are  in  some  danger  of  throwing  out  of  court  entirely  the 
burning  words  of  one  who,  though  he  did  not  see  and  state 
the  whole  truth,  still  pointed  out  some  of  the  most  funda- 
mental and  vital  problems  of  the  time,  and  was  no  mean 
precursor  of  the  new  age.  Tolstoy's  work  is  palpably  a 
reaction ;  and  as  such  it  is  not  to  be  understood  apart  from 
the  conditions  and  influences  against  which  he  reacted. 

The  old  regime  of  feudal  serfdom,  indefensible  as  it  was  collectivism 
in  itself,  still  approximated  in  some  respects  that  very  col- 
lective ownership  of  land  and  that  corporate  system  of 
labor  which  is  one  of  the  ideals  of  socialism.  The  super- 
vision of  the  great  landlords,  again,  was  often  paternal 
and  kindly;  the  laws  forbade  drastic  cruelty  to  the  serfs; 
while  in  any  event  the  landlord  was  obliged  to  provide  for 
them  in  siclaiess,  age,  or  misfortune.  It  was  therefore 
quite  natural  that  there  should  be  a  considerable  school 


34/6ic7.,  p.  272   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  325). 
35  Ibid.,  p.  281   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  340). 


22 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  v 


Humanism 


Individualism 


Bealism 


of  Russian  writers,  who,  following  the  reasonings  of  Fourier, 
championed  the  ideal  of  a  collective  socialism  for  the  funda- 
mental constitution  of  society.  And  the  influence  of  this 
school  has  affected  the  course  of  all  Russian  thought  ever 
since. 

After  the  Crimean  War,  however,  it  was  evident  that 
forces  both  from  without  and  from  within  were  compelling 
a  change-,  in  the  existing  order,  and  the  abolition  of  the 
system  of  serfdom.  Interest  was  concentrated  on  the  con- 
dition of  the  peasantry,  with  sympathy  for  their  hardships, 
and  plans  for  ameliorating  their  lot;  and  the  period  of 
"Russian  Humanism"  followed.  In  this  agitation  the 
principles  of  Fourier 's  collectivism  came  again  to  the  front. 
In  the  face  of  the  prevailing  regime,  it  was  now  explicitly 
argued  that  the  land  belonged  to  those  who  cultivated 
it ;  that  capital  and  all  the  means  of  production  belonged 
to  associations  of  producers ;  and  that  the  individual 
had  a  right  to  the  full  value  of  his  exertions.^^  In  other 
words,  there  now  appeared  the  great  modern  social  prob- 
lem, the  right  of  labor,  as  against  the  ancient  right  of 
property. 

This  last  tendency  was  greatly  reenforced  by  reasonings 
from  an  almost  precisely  opposite  quarter,  in  the  writings 
of  Pierre  Joseph  Proudhon.  His  starting-point  w^s  not 
a  collective  society,  but  an  absolute  individualism;  and  he 
expressed  most  powerfully  the  integrity  and  importance  of 
personality,  and  the  necessity  for  its  full  and  harmonious 
development.  In  its  genesis,  his  system  was  a  reaction 
against  the  French  bureaucracy  of  his  day ;  and  the  political 
conclusions  of  the  movement  under  the  oppressive  autocracy 
of  Russia  were  an  absolute  negation  of  all  compulsive 
authority,  which  in  the  end  seriously  advocated  anarchy 
as  a  social  ideal. 

But  at  this  time  the  great  advances  in  theoretical  and 
applied  science  in  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth  century 


85  Cf.  Walter,  Tolstoi,  p.  23. 


1^12]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  23 

seemed  to  many  to  be  opening  a  new  era  of  material  com- 
fort and  intellectual  development.  In  all  the  literature 
of  the  period,  we  see  how  these  stirring  discoveries  fired 
the  imaginations  of  the  highest  minds.  The  millennium 
of  culture  had  come.  As  Pisarev  said,^''  there  was  only- 
one  evil  in  mankind — ignorance;  and  for  this  evil,  only 
one  remedy — science.  This  development  of  Individualism 
is  known  as  Eealism;  and  according  to  it,  scientific  educa- 
tion is  the  sole  means  necessary  for  the  solution  of  social 
questions,  and  the  abolition  of  all  social  misery. 

It  is  accordingly  in  connection  with  this  over-sanguine 
optimism  that  we  are  to  interpret  Tolstoy 's  diatribes  against 
scientific  knowledge  and  achievements.  A  wholesale  deroga- 
tion of  science  itself  is,  in  this  age,  unintelligible;  but  as 
a  reaction,  a  protest  against  another  one-sided  position,  it 
has  its  value. 

Finally,  there  was  the  political  doctrine  of  Hegelian  Positivism 
idealism,  which  regarded  the  State  as  a  necessary  form  of 
the  development  of  personality.  This,  as  Tolstoy  intimates, 
was  eagerly  accepted  among  the  intellectual  classes,  whose 
idleness  it  justified.  But  later  it  was  completely  supplanted 
by  the  Positivist  doctrine  of  society  as  an  organism,  with 
its  corollary  of  a  corresponding  division  of  labor  among  its 
parts.  This,  too,  was  seized  upon  by  the  ruling  classes 
as  a  justification  for  idleness ;  and  it  is  as  such  that  Tolstoy 
attacks  it. 

"We  must  not  forget,  then,  that  Tolstoy  is  speaking  from  Tolstoy's 
a  country  still  in  the  penumbra  of  the  Middle  Ages,  im-  inheritance 
perfectly  developed  economically,  and  with  the  most  des- 
potic system  of  government  in  Europe;  a  country  where 
the  collision  of  old  and  new,  of  absolutism  and  individual- 
ism, of  property  and  of  human  rights,  is  more  acute,  be- 
cause so  inchoate,  than  it  is  anywhere  else, — where  all  the 
problems  of  ci\nlization  are  felt  most  sharply,  for  civiliza- 
tion has  still  to  realize  itself  there.     He  is  in  complete 


30  Cited  by  Walter,  Tolstoi,  p.  35. 


24  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Yoh.  i 

revolt  against  autocratic  oppression,  to  the  point  of  an 
invincible  opposition  to  compulsion  and  authority  of  every 
kind.  Filled  with  a  love  for  the  soil,  for  honest  labor, 
for  the  simple  life,  he  scorns  the  luxuries  of  society,  and 
the  pretensions  of  a  too  recondite  learning  and  a  too  self- 
eentered  culture;  in  reaction  against  opposite  extremists, 
he  condemns  science  itself.  Moreover,  he  is  the  heir  of 
two  great  movements  of  the  mind  of  his  nation,  toward 
a  socialistic  communism,  and  toward  a  personal  individual- 
ism: for  his  is  the  idealized  hope  of  a  societ}^  of  brotherly 
love,  unsubdued  by  the  crude  reality;  and  his  is  the  in- 
sistence on  the  free  and  harmonious  development  of  per- 
sonality, as  a  principle  transcending  all  the  claims  of  prop- 
erty or  the  State. 
Ethical  And,  as  the  reader  of  the  autobiographical  sketches  of 

Trend  .  .  . 

his  novel  Youth  will  note,  Tolstoy's  concern  with  social 
problems  was  not  the  incidental  interest  of  the  litterateur. 
Even  while  he  was  in  the  university,  the  problem  of  the 
meaning  and  the  end  of  life  was  of  paramount  interest 
to  him.  For,  though  one  of  the  nobility,  he  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  country.  And  now,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  leisure 
of  stud}^,  he  disliked  his  scientific  books,  and  remembered 
with  regret  the  concrete  and  practical  activity  of  the  coun- 
try, and  longed  to  be  fulfilling  a  useful  part  in  life.  Even- 
tually he  left  the  university  without  finishing  his  course, 
with  the  determination  to  do  his  duty  as  he  saw  it  to  his 
serfs,  for  whose  welfare  he  felt  immediately  responsible. 

And  about  this  time  he  was  subject  to  the  potent  in- 
fluence of  Rousseau,  whose  praise  of  honest  labor,  of  the 
simple  life,  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  finds  many  echoes  in 
Tolstoy's  novels.  (See  in  particular  The  Cossacks).  From 
this  time,  his  love  for  humanity,  and  his  consecration  to 
its  cause,  only  increases;  and  whether  in  his  great  epic 
novels,  or  in  his  philosophical  and  religious  polemics,  we 
find  this  one  motif  dominant — a  deep  concern  for  the  moral 
welfare  of  mankind. 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  25 

IV.  CRITICISM  OF  TOLSTOY'S  THOUGHT 

(a)  View  of  Society 

Let  us  now  take  the  crucial  instance  that  first  aroused  Charities 
Tolstoy  to  the  recognition  of  the  fact  that  life  for  hira 
under  the  prevailing  conditions  was  impossible.  In  large 
measure  this  was  dependent  on  the  feelings  that  accom- 
panied his  various  attempted  charities.  At  the  Lyapinski 
House,  at  the  house  of  the  starving  Agafya,  wherever  he 
attempted  to  distribute  money,  he  precipitated  a  small  riot, 
did  no  real  good,  and  went  home  feeling  humiliated.  Even- 
tually, in  the  incident  of  the  cook's  wife,  he  realized  the 
actual  cause  of  his  shame, — the  fact  that  these  people 
thought  it  was  only  "fool's  money,"  which  they  were  jus- 
tified in  extracting  from  him  if  they  could.  But  it  seems 
that  Tolstoy  habitually  attributed  this  feeling  of  shame  to 
the  futility  of  his  almsgiving,  thinking  that  both  motive 
and  means  of  his  charity  were  quite  right,  but  that  it  was 
fruitless  only  because  he  was  out  of  touch  with  the  nature  of 
the  poor,  because  his  own  life  was  at  fault.  It  does  not  seem 
to  have  occurred  to  him  that  there  is  something  intrinsically 
vicious  in  almsgiving  itself.  A  casual  alms  to  a  beggar  he 
justifies :  it  is  only  when  he  attempts  to  make  his  charity  to 
the  beggar  more  deliberate,  intelligent,  and  systematic,  that 
he  feels  dislike  from  the  beggar  and  contempt  for  himself. 

Yet  the  true  fact,  as  we  very  well  recognize  in  all  our 
modern  science  of  charity,  is  that  every  pure  gratuity  is 
demoralizing  alike  to  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes; 
that  it  is  an  emotional  slovenliness  on  the  part  of  the  giver, 
and  pauperizing  to  the  receiver.  It  was  really  this,  rather 
than  the  economic  iniquity  of  his  life,  that  made  Tolstoy 
feel  those  flushes  of  shame;  and  whether  or  not  he  was 
right  about  the  iniquity,  he  was  certainly  not  justified  in 
arguing  that  iniquity  from  his  feelings  in  almsgiving. 

There  is,  of  course,  as  we  freely  recognize,  a  legitimate 


26  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

field  for  systematic  charity,  and  a  real  problem  in  its  ad- 
ministration;  and,  as  we  shall  see  presently,  our  best  suc- 
cesses in  this  work  have  shown  that  Tolstoy  was  essen- 
tially right  in  his  characterization  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple, in  that  its  true  solution  must  be  in  terms  of  per- 
sonal influence  and  education. 
City  and  His  contrast  of  city  and  country,  again,  we  cannot  fail 

Country  ^^  ^^^  somcwhat  onc-sidcd.     The  country,  he  says,  is  the 

real  source  of  all  wealth,  and  the  home  of  the  real  pro- 
ducers. The  dwellers  in  cities  are  mere  consumers  and 
parasites ;  their  very  labor  is  factitious ;  and  they  exist  only 
by  extorting  by  violence  or  guile  the  necessities  of  life  from 
the  country.  This  standpoint,  it  is  to  be  noted,  would  be 
true  only  in  case  nothing  of  value  were  produced  in  the 
city — if  the  country  got  no  equivalent  for  the  subsistence 
it  furnishes  the  city.  And  of  course  this  is  very  much  what 
Tolstoy  means,  as  appears  in  his  attack  on  scientific  advance 
as  related  to  common  welfare.  Tolstoy  regards  the  produc- 
tions of  applied  science  as  in  part  useless,  as  ministering 
to  artificial  needs,  and  in  part  as  pernicious,  as  corrupting 
the  people;  and  in  any  event  as  for  the  advantage  of  the 
rich  rather  than  the  poor,  and  a  new  means  of  exploiting 
and  despoiling  the  common  people. 

We  cannot  but  feel  that  these  conclusions  were  made 
from  too  narrow  a  basis.  It  might  well  seem  to  Tolstoy 
that  this  scientific  development  had  not  benefitted  the  Rus- 
sian peasants,  with  whose  miserable  condition  he  was 
familiar;  yet,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  they  are  kept  im- 
poverished by  iron  political  and  social  forces  with  which 
the  modern  scientific-commercial  development  could  have 
very  little  to  do.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is  on  much 
stronger  ground  when  he  claims  that  the  very  people 
whose  labors  make  our  civilization  possible  are  the  last  to 
profit  by  them:  for  undoubtedly  the  factory  employees  as 
a  class  lead  lives  in  which  the  very  luxuries  they  make  play 
the  least  possible  part.  Unquestionably  there  is  a  great 
injustice  here ;  but  the  blame  of  it  can  in  no  wise  be  visited 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  27 

upon  applied  science.  However  economic  influences  may 
have  operated  to  enslave  some  classes,  the  effect  of  science 
upon  mankind  as  a  whole  has  indisputably  been  emanci- 
pating: it  has  freed  men  from  much  of  the  bondage  of 
material  labor,  and  has  multiplied  by  many  fold  the  com- 
forts and  enjoyments  within  their  reach. 

The  partial  character  of  Tolstoy's  reasoning  is  merely 

ScicncB 

confirmed  when  he  tells  us  explicitly  what  he  means  by  true  .md  Art 
science  and  art.  He  takes  a  somewhat  scholastic  definition 
of  the  terms,  as  "human  reasonable  activity,"  and  "the 
expression  of  this  reasonable  activity";  and  then,  by  elim- 
inating all  natural  and  social  science,  and  all  current  art, 
confines  these  terms  to  religion  as  the  only  actual  science, 
the  science  of  living,  and  to  the  expression  of  religion  in 
music,  painting,  etc.,  as  the  sole  valid  art.  To  be  sure,  this 
does  not  mean  the  theology  and  the  art  of  the  Church,  which 
Tolstoy  regarded  as  perverse  and  pernicious.  The  whole 
of  life,  all  human  relationships,  were  to  Tolstoy  religion; 
and,  as  we  see  in  his  What  Is  Art?  the  thesis  he  is  really 
maintaining  is  a  revolt  against  all  art  that  is  in  any  way 
esoteric,  that  requires  a  specially  cultivated  taste  to  ap- 
preciate it,  and  an  insistence  that  true  art  should  appeal 
to  universal  and  intuitive  sympathies,  and  thus  be  a  uniting 
instead  of  a  dividing  force  among  humankind. 

With  his  protest  we  cannot  fail  to  sympathize.  Such 
a  protest  is  perpetually  necessary  against  any  human  ac- 
tivity, intellectual  or  emotional,  that  would  exalt  itself  into 
an  end  in  itself,  and,  in  becoming  the  prerogative  of  the 
few,  should  cease  to  be  a  social  possession.  We  must  never 
emphasize  knowledge  for  knowledge's  sake,  and  art  for 
art's  sake,  until  we  forget  that  they  are  fundamentally  and 
eternally  for  man's  sake,  and  that  their  very  life  depends 
on  their  social  mission. 

But  we  can  never  acquiesce  in  any  theory  that  would 
confine  thought  and  feeling  to  the  merest  rudiments  of 
their  expression,  or,  indeed,  restrain  them  anywhere  short 
of  the  supremest  heights  of  the  human  spirit.     How  much 


28  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

wiser  is  the  spirit  of  the  true  democracy,  not  to  forbid  cul- 
ture to  the  few,  but  to  spread  it  broadcast  among  all  men! 
As  we  have  intimated,  much  of  all  this  hostility  to  art 
and  to  science  is  due  to  Tolstoy's  revolt  against  a  society 
centering  around  an  idle  bureaucratic  court;  for  it  seemed 
to  him  that  the  activities  of  the  arts  and  sciences  were 
almost  exclusively  employed  in  pandering  to  the  unnatural 
needs  of  this  exotic  society.  But  to  us,  in  a  country  and 
an  age  where  scientific  activity  is  undoubtedly  of  imme- 
diate and  general  practical  service  to  everyone,  and  where 
there  is  a  nearly  universal  spread  of  artistic  appreciation 
and  opportunity,  there  seems  very  little  justification  for 
such  restrictions. 
Education  Similarly,  in  the  matter  of  education  Tolstoy  points 

out  a  real  evil  in  Russia,  and  a  real  danger  everywhere. 
Education  is  always  in  some  peril  of  getting  out  of  adjust- 
ment with  social  needs,  and  becoming  the  excuse  for  selfish 
idleness  on  the  part  of  its  beneficiaries.  There  is  no  doubt, 
for  example,  that  the  invidium  that  is  attached  to  the 
term  "academic,"  and  the  criticisms  at  present  current 
against  pedantic  university  research  work,  are  at  least 
partly  merited.  On  the  other  hand,  the  American  plan  for 
universal  free  education  has  wholly  removed  the  stigma 
of  education  as  a  perquisite  of  the  rich,  and  made  it 
instead  the  basis  of  that  equality  of  opportunity  which  is 
the  very  foundation  of  true  democracy.  At  the  same  time, 
the  fact  that  it  is  of,  for,  and  by  the  people,  is  bringing 
it  into  an  ever  more  vital  relation  with  popular  needs. 

In  general,  we  may  say  that  substantial  progress  of  the 
race  is  impossible  if  the  main  duty  of  the  life  of  every 
one  is  manual  labor,  as  Tolstoy  claimed,  and  if  knowledge 
and  culture  are  to  be  incidental  by-products  of  the  spare 
moments  and  energies  of  those  so  inclined.  Education  is 
indispensable  to  lift  men  above  the  tyranny  of  fact,  the 
innumerable  commonplaces  of  workaday  life,  and  to  make 
possible  the  broader  mind,  the  higher  vision.  And  we  must 
not  be  so  penurious  as  to  begrudge  young  minds  this  ines- 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  29 

timable  advantage,  even  before  they  have  repaid  society  for 
it  by  their  effective  performance.  It  is  better  that  a 
thousand  pass-men  should  lounge  through  a  university  than 
that  one  true  scholar  should  be  deprived  of  its  opportunities. 
Nor  should  we  forget  that  much  can  be  said  even  for 
the  pursuit  of  "pure  science,"  of  knowledge  for  its  own 
sake,  with  no  conceivable  practical  end  in  view,  because 
of  its  directly  chastening  and  ennobling  effect  upon  the 
human  spirit;  and  further,  that  even  from  the  utilitarian 
standpoint  it  has  been  these  very  investigations  into  "pure 
science"  that  have  borne  such  marvelous  fruit  in  the  won- 
derful advances  of  modern  civilization ;  and  that  it  may 
well  be  said  that  there  is  not  any  human  knowledge  that 
does  not  ultimately  prove  of  some  immediate  human  use. 

(&)    Economic  Theory 

Similar  fallacies  await  us  as  we  approach  Tolstoy's  Factors  of 
fundamental  theory  of  economics.  His  analysis  of  the  fac- 
tors of  production,  on  which  he  chieflly  bases  his  rejection 
of  the  current  economic  theory,  is  not  founded  on  any  con- 
sistent principle  of  discrimination.  Capital,  land,  and 
labor,  he  says,  do  not  form  a  valid  division;  in  the  first 
place,  because  they  are  not  comprehensive,  and  in  the  sec- 
ond, because  they  are  not  mutually  exclusive.  For  there 
are  other  factors,  such  as  air,  water,  sun,  means  of  com- 
munication between  the  laborers,  and  the  social  order  that 
protects  them.  These  are  not  the  subjects  of  private  owner- 
ship ;  why  then  should  the  other  factors  be  so  ?  They  ought 
all  alike  to  be  free  to  all  who  wish  them,  as  they  generally 
are  in  primitive  societies. 

But  this  reasoning  is  undigested.  Sunlight,  air,  etc., 
are  not  the  subjects  of  property  for  two  reasons ;  they  have, 
generally  speaking,  no  realizable  value  in  themselves  alone; 
and  they  are  not  susceptible  of  being  segregated.  The  use 
of  them  by  one  man  does  not  exclude  another  man  from  do- 
ing the  same.    On  the  other  hand,  land,  for  example,  alone, 


30  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

apart  from  labor  or  capital,  may  be  useful,  as  for  grazing; 
and  has  been  appropriated  as  such  by  pioneers  in  western 
America.  Such  land  is  definitely  such  a  man's  property, 
as  much  as  any  land  can  be,  the  fruit  of  his  enterprise  and 
privations.  But  when  other  would-be  settlers  come  into  the 
region,  must  he  then  give  up  part  of  his  land  to  them, 
without  compensation,  just  as  he  would  give  them  without 
question  a  share  in  the  sunlight  and  the  air  of  heaven? 

This  discrimination  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that 
when,  under  any  circumstances,  these  supposedly  free  and 
universal  factors  of  production  become  susceptible  of  pri- 
vate claim,  to  the  exclusion  of  others,  then  they  become  the 
subjects  of  property,  and  of  substantive  value  in  them- 
selves. The  sun  and  air  are  free :  yet  we  have  to  enact 
laws  to  prevent  the  monopolization  of  light  by  tall  build- 
ings, and  the  pollution  of  air  by  factory-fumes.  "Water 
in  the  form  of  rain  is  free ;  but  in  the  form  of  power,  or 
for  irrigation,  it  is  property,  and  watershed  and  riparian 
rights  are  often  of  great  value.  To  a  primitive  mind  like 
Tolstoy's  it  might  seem  that  the  Russian  steppes  should 
be  free  to  anyone  who  wished  to  use  them;  yet  they  are 
mostly  of  low  fertility,  and  need  reenforcing  with  scientific 
fertilizers.  Here  is  another  indispensable  factor  of  pro- 
duction, one  of  substantive  value,  and  none  at  all  inherent 
in  the  land:  what  would  Tolstoy  do  with  it? 

Just  the  extent  of  Tolstoy's  confusion  in  this  matter 
of  the  factors  of  production  may  be  judged  from  the  fact 
that,  although  he  declines  to  recognize  the  threefold  classi- 
fication in  theory,  in  practice  he  does  recognize  it,  and  in- 
sists on  the  right  of  every  man  to  each  of  the  three.  We 
should  be  wholly  at  a  loss  to  state  his  contention  except 
in  terms  of  this  classification. 
Money  Back  of  all  this  unanalysed  confusion  lies  the  entire 

question  of  values,  and  the  very  possibility  of  property. 
Tolstoy  impatiently  brushes  aside  the  fundamental  answers 
of  economics,  that  money  is  the  representative  of  labor,  and 
that  the  reason  why  the  laborer  does  not  possess  it  lies  in 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  31 

the  fact  that,  in  the  complexity  of  our  modern  social  sys- 
tem, he  does  not  receive  the  full  equivalent  of  his  work. 
By  lengthy  examples  he  attempts  to  show  that  the  real 
significance  of  money  is  a  means  of  subjugation,  the  tool 
of  the  modern  commercial  feudalism,  and  the  successor  of 
the  land-slavery  and  personal  slavery  of  previous  times. 
And  who  can  deny  that  in  this  he  is  partly  right  ? 

But  that  these  things  inhere  in  the  nature  of  money 
itself  cannot  be  granted,  for  by  Tolstoy's  own  admission 
his  contention  breate  down  at  vital  points.  "Whenever 
there  is  no  violent  demand  for  money  taxes,"  he  says, 
"there  never  has  been,  and  can  never  be,  money  in  its  true 
signification ;  but,  as  among  the  Fiji  Islanders,  the  Phoeni- 
cians, the  Kirghis,  and  generally  among  men  who  do  not 
pay  taxes,  as  among  the  Africans,  there  is  either  a  direct 
exchange  of  produce,  or  arbitrary  standards  of  value,  as 
sheep,  hides,  sldns,  and  shells.  "^^  But  what  else  is  this 
than  ' '  money  in  its  true  signification  ? ' '  What  other  defini- 
tion can  we  construct  for  money  than  "arbitrary  standards 
of  value,"  used  as  a  medium  of  exchange?  Is  this  not  the 
prime  function  of  money,  to  which  all  other  functions  and 
efl^ects  are  incidental  and  by  no  means  inevitable  results? 
Nothing  could  subvert  this  influence,  except  such  an  essen- 
tial begging  of  the  question  as  the  a  priori  definition  that 
money  is  before  all  a  medium  of  slavery. 

Finally,  Tolstoy  in  effect  cedes  the  whole  point,  as 
far  as  the  world  at  large  is  concerned,  w'hen  he  admits 
that  "without  doubt,  money  possesses  the  inoffensive  prop- 
erties which  science  enumerates;  but  these  properties  it 
would  have  only  in  a  society  in  which  there  was  no  vio- 
lence." ^^ 

For  this  reveals  the  whole  spring  of  his  animus  against  Local 
money.     Tolstoy,  it  must  never  be  forgotten,  lived  in  an 
undeveloped  and  impoverished  country,  under  an  iron  gov- 


37  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  104  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  122). 
^slbid.,  p.  107   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  126). 


32  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

ernment.  ''70.7  per  cent  of  the  whole  peasantry  receive 
from  their  share  of  the  soil  less  than  the  minimum  of  exist- 
ence ;  20.4  per  cent  are  in  condition  to  support  themselves, 
but  not  their  animals,  from  their  property ;  and  only  8.9 
per  cent  of  the  whole  peasantry  bring  to  market  agricul- 
tural products  of  their  land  over  and  above  what  is  neces- 
sary for  the  satisfaction  of  their  own  needs. ' '  ^^  The  grain- 
production  of  the  country  as  a  whole  is  very  low,  not  quite 
1.2  tons  net,  less  than  half  that  of  Germany.*"  And  taxes 
are  high:  so  that  as  the  result,  it  has  been  reckoned  that 
fully  nine-tenths  of  the  Eussian  peasants  are  compelled 
to  hire  themselves  out  for  some  part  of  the  year  to  pay 
their  taxes,  as  Tolstoy  himself  admits.*^  To  him,  then,  it 
must  have  seemed  inevitable  that  money  must  function  as 
an  instrument  of  extortion.  He  cannot  separate  the  eco- 
nomic question  from  the  political.  But  under  the  Ameri- 
can system,  for  example,  this  contention  breaks  down 
utterly. 
Commercial  There  stiU  remains,  to  be  sure,  the  fact  which  he  cites, 

that  a  man  who  has  money  can  induce  a  man  who  has 
not  to  perform  the  most  uncongenial  tasks,  rather  than  to 
starve.  Sometimes,  of  course,  this  is  an  actual  form  of 
servitude.  And  in  so  far  as  this  is  true,  it  is  also  true 
that  all  who  possess  property  partake  of  this  power,  and 
to  a  certain  extent  are  accomplices  in  the  oppression.  But 
it  must  not  be  forgotten,  again,  that  all  agreements  of  this 
sort  are  mutual;  that  labor  is  freely  undertaken  and  freely 
left;  that  opportunities  are  numerous,  and  the  market  for 
labor  world-wide.  And  so,  without  denying  or  minimizing 
the  labor  problem — ^the  fact  of  occasional  despotisms  of 
capital  and  miseries  of  labor,  the  fact  that  the  workman 
never  receives  the  full  equivalence  of  his  work — and  with- 


Feudalism 


39  G.  Schulze-Gsevernitz,  Vollcswirtschaftliche  Studien  aus  Eussland 
(Leipzig,  Duncker  &  Humblot,   1899),  p.   318. 

40  C.  Ballod,  ' '  Beitriige  zur  Frage  nach  der  Produkti\ntat  der 
Arbeit  etc.,"  in  Schmoller's  Jalirbueh  fur  Gesetzgehung  (Leipzig, 
Duncker  &  Humblot),  1905,  pt.  iii,  p.  17. 

41  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  105  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  123). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  33 

out  claiming  that  the  present  economic  status  is  just  or 
perfect,  we  are  still  not  sustained  in  the  sweeping  conclu- 
sion that  this  status  is  inevitably  one  of  slavery,  and  that 
this  slavery  is  inseparably  inherent  in  the  nature  of  money. 
In  fairness  to  Tolstoy,  it  should  be  noted  that  his  nega- 

iAscBtic 

tion  of  the  principle  of  property  has  another  justification,  Doctrine 
only  touched  upon  in  What  Shall  We  Do  Then,  but  de- 
veloped at  some  length  in  The  Kingdom  of  God  Is  Within 
You.  This  negation  is  not  merely  an  economic  matter 
to  him;  it  is  an  ascetic  religious  doctrine,  based  on  his 
conception  of  the  ethical  content  of  the  Christian  religion. 
For  here,  in  opposition  to  the  individualism  which  is  the 
starting-point  of  most  thinkers,  he  enunciates  the  principle 
of  altruism  as  the  first  and  fundamental  law  of  life.  This 
does  not  mean  merely  the  general  precepts  of  mutual  love 
and  the  service  of  others ;  to  Tolstoy,  the  true  ' '  divine  con- 
ception of  life,"  the  real  teaching  of  the  Christian  faith,  the 
"Christian  foundation  of  life,"  is  to  be  found  in  the  prin- 
ciples of  "equality,  brotherhood  of  man,  and  community  of 
possession. ' '  *^  And  one  of  these  demands  of  the  Christian 
doctrine  is  "the  abolition  of  property."*^ 

Now,  undoubtedly,  Jesus  Christ  himself  lived  a  life  in 
which  self-seeking  had  no  part,  and  taught  His  followers 
a  perfect  altruism  that  is  the  consummation  of  ethics.  Un- 
questionably, the  early  Church,  in  the  first  days  of  single- 
minded  purpose  and  brotherly  love,  was  organized  as  a 
practical  communism.  The  socialists  of  todaj^  who  claim  to 
follow  what  Christ  practiced  may  often  silence  those  who 
claim  to  preach  what  He  preached.  And  if  Christ's  gos- 
pel were  to  energize  the  modern  world  to  that  perfect  un- 
selfishness which  was  His  object,  all  hatred,  oppression,  and 
injustice  would  disappear,  and  society  would  voluntarily 
approach  a  social  cooperation  which  we  now  characterize 
as  millennial. 


■i-  Tolstoy,   The  Kingdom  of  God  Is   Within   You,  translated  by 
Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1905),  p.  117. 
43  Ibid.,  p.  116. 


34  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

Yet  it  is  none  the  less  perfectly  obvious  that  Tolstoy  is 
distinctly  misrepresenting  the  teaching  of  Christ  when  he 
goes  beyond  this  spirit  of  altruism,  and  attempts  to  make 
the  abolition  of  property  per  se  an  obligatory  "command- 
ment" of  Christ,  and  an  integral  part  of  Christian  ethics. 
He  is  really  taking  certain  particular  expressions,  given 
under  particular  conditions,  and  forcing  their  application 
as  universal  rules  of  conduct,  for  all  men  at  all  times.  Now, 
the  more  one  examines  Christ's  teaching,  the  more  he  will 
admire  the  consummate  adaptation  of  His  words  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  each  case;  yet  nothing  is  clearer  than  that 
they  were  never  intended  to  be  applied  in  any  such  legal- 
istic way.  The  important  thing  in  all  His  instruction  is 
not  the  individual  application,  but  the  spiritual  principle : 
not,  for  example,  the  iniquity  of  private  property,  but  the 
sin  of  selfishness ;  not  the  necessity  of  poverty,  but  the 
duty  of  generosity.  This  difference  of  the  spiritual 
and  the  literal  appears  nowhere  more  plainly  than  in  Tol- 
stoy's drastic  thesis,  "Property  is  the  root  of  all  evil,"  as 
compared  with  that  very  different  statement,  "The  love  of 
money  is  the  root  of  all  evil, ' '  ''■*  the  true  Christian  prin- 
ciple, in  the  mouth  of  St.  Paul. 
Property  Nor   cau  wc   agree   with   that   restricted   definition   of 

property  as  our  own  bodies,  which  Tolstoy  finally  admits. 
"Property,"  according  to  him,  "means  that  which  is  given 
to  me  alone,  which  belongs  to  me  alone,  exclusively;  that 
with  which  I  may  always  do  everything  I  like,  which  nobody 
can  take  away  from  me,  which  remains  mine  to  the  end  of 
my  life,  and  that  I  ought  to  use  in  order  to  increase  and 
to  improve  it.  Such  property  for  every  man  is  only  him- 
self." *'^  But  is  this  true?  Of  course,  Tolstoy  would  prob- 
ably not  admit  the  mandatory  claims  of  corporate  Society 
as  a  whole  upon  man's  exertions,  or  his  life,  even  to  the 
extent  of  sacrificing  that  life  in  battle  or  taking  it  away 
by  execution,  for  the  reason  that  he  would  recognize  no  such 


44  I   Tim.  vi.   10. 

45  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  268  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  321). 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  35 

powers,  nor  the  very  existence,  of  a  corporate  Society. 
Yet  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  just  as  "no  man  liveth 
unto  himself  alone,"  so  no  man's  life,  nor  even  his  own 
body,  is  his  exclusive  property.  If  we  acknowledge  no 
other  social  ties,  still  the  most  fundamental  and  immediate 
bonds  of  the  family  will  remain,  witnessing  to  the  fact 
that  in  body  as  well  as  in  spirit  a  man  belongs  to  others 
as  well  as  to  himself,  that  he  has  no  right  to  waste  even 
his  "own"  powers  when  it  is  to  the  detriment  of  others; 
and  that  even  in  the  question  of  ' '  personal  liberty, ' '  Society 
has  a  right  to  interfere,  and  to  insist  that  a  man  shall 
not  debauch  himself  with  alcohol,  gambling,  or  vice,  be- 
cause Society  itself  is  the  loser  thereby.  And  eventually 
Tolstoy  himself  was  brought  to  recognize  substantially  these 
conclusions,  not  indeed  as  matters  of  demand  and  com- 
pulsion from  without,  but  as  necessary  responses  from  with- 
in to  the  duty  of  true  altruism. 

So  even  Tolstoy's  restricted  definition  will  not  stand  The  Personal 
the  test.  And,  as  everyone  will  perceive,  any  broader  and  Principle 
more  tenable  definition  will  include  also  some  of  the  other 
received  ideas  of  property.  So  all  thinkers  have  found 
it.  Locke  starts  with  the  idea  of  Tolstoy,  that  every  man 
is  his  own  property;  and  deduces  immediately  from  this 
the  notion  of  private  property.  Fichte  does  likewise,  ar- 
guing that  if  we  are  the  masters  of  our  own  bodily  powers, 
we  have  the  right  to  exclusive  possession  of  the  productions 
of  those  powers.  And  Henry  George  says  that  just  as  a 
man  belongs  to  himself,  so  also  the  work  that  he  has 
made  in  concrete  form  belongs  to  him.  It  should  be  very 
evident  that  this  is  the  correct  principle,  based  as  it  is  not 
on  the  old  Roman  right  of  occupation,  w^hich  has  domin- 
ated the  common  law  for  centuries,  but  on  the  life  of  the 
new  age,  the  sacred  modern  right  of  labor. 

So  when  Tolstoy  says,  "Property  is  only  the  means  of 
utilizing  other  men's  labor.  And  another's  labor  can  by 
no  means  belong  to  me,"''*'  we  are  bound  to  answer  that 


i^Ibid.,  p.  266  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  319). 


36  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

this  is  perfectly  correct — except  when  we  exchange  our 
labor  for  his.  The  simple  exception  vitiates  the  whole 
body  of  reasoning  that  Tolstoy  has  erected  on  this  funda- 
mental thesis,  which  seemed  to  him  such  an  absolute  axiom. 
Yet  it  is  indisputable  that  this  is  precisely  what  property 
means.  The  right  to  work  means  nothing,  unless  we  have 
a  right  to  the  products  of  our  labor:  and  it  is  identically 
this  stored-up  reserve  of  excess  effort  on  our  part,  over  and 
above  the  minimum  necessary  for  our  existence,  which  we 
exchange  for  the  efforts  of  others.  And  this  conception 
of  property — the  accumulated  savings  of  our  extra  exer- 
tions— is  vital  to  all  individual  and  social  progress. 

(c)  Sociological  Theory 

The  Organic  In  his  sociological  as  in  his  economic  reasonings  Tolstoy 

is  an  absolute  individualist.  The  prevailing  doctrine  of 
Society  as  an  organism  he  rejects  absolutely,  on  the  inter- 
esting ground  that  it  lacks  the  first  characteristic  of  an 
organism,  a  unifying  center  of  consciousness. 

The  true  cause  of  his  hostility  to  this  theory  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  manner  in  which  it  was  used  by  the  estab- 
lished regime  of  the  State,  society,  and  commerce,  to  jus- 
tify not  merely  intangible  activities,  but  idleness  itself. 
But  the  philosophical  objection  that  he  here  makes  to  it 
will  not  stand.  It  is  based  on  the  somewhat  elementary  but 
fatal  defect  of  taking  the  theory  literally;  whereas  it  was 
never  intended  to  be  used  as  anything  but  an  illustrative 
metaphor.  The  doctrine  itself,  in  his  conception  of  it,  he 
states  very  baldly  as  the  idea  "that  a  swarm  of  bees  could 
become  an  animal."  Of  course,  an  organism  in  this  literal 
sense,  no  society  ever  was  nor  could  be.  But  does  not  the 
fundamental  analogy  remain?  Is  not  every  society  in  some 
sense  a  whole,  with  an  actual  relation  of  parts,  and  special- 
ization of  their  functions? 

At  the  bottom  of  the  biological  scale,  we  find  primitive 
animals  of  a  single  cell,  mere  drops  of  protoplasm,  form- 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  37 

less,  independent,  and  alone.  And  in  a  crude  way,  these 
single  cells  perform  all  the  functions  of  life;  they  detect 
food  at  a  distance,  they  move  about,  they  eat,  digest,  and 
excrete,  they  are  sensitive  to  light  and  stimuli,  they  repro- 
duce their  kind.  But  as  we  leave  this  most  primitive  form 
and  ascend  the  scale  of  life,  as  we  find  many  cells  grouped 
together  in  a  common  unity,  with  a  common  life-purpose, 
then  there  is  no  longer  this  universal  functioning  of  each 
cell,  but  a  differentiation  of  sensory,  motor,  digestive,  repro- 
ductive, and  higher  functions :  that  is,  cooperation,  special- 
ization, and  division  of  labor. 

In  human  societies  Ave  have  a  similar  development. 
Only  on  the  most  primitive  scale,  and  in  the  most  elementary 
way,  is  each  man  able  to  satisfy  all  his  own  wants  and  to 
fulfil  the  possibilities  of  his  nature ;  and  under  these  cir- 
cumstances the  higher  intellectual  and  social  functions  are 
completely  beyond  him,  as  the  accurate  vision  of  the  human 
eye  and  the  thought  of  the  human  brain  are  outside  the 
possibilities  of  the  amoeba.  But  society  brings  an  interrela- 
tion and  an  interdependence  of  function.  As  the  auditory 
nerves  are  freed  from  the  need  of  seeking  their  own  food 
and  performing  their  own  locomotion,  and  are  able  to 
bring  a  precise  adaptation  of  means  to  a  single  end,  so  the 
physician  who  is  not  obliged  to  hoe  his  own  potatoes  and 
make  his  own  coat  is  free  to  devote  himself  to  a  more 
specialized  social  service.  Yet  Tolstoy's  proposed  resolution 
of  the  social  order  is  comparable  only  to  dissolving  the  won- 
derful organization  and  high  possibilities  of  the  human  body 
into  a  swarm  of  scavenging  amoebae. 

However,  it  is  claimed  by  some  that  Tolstoy's  vigorous  Tolstoy's 
and  rigorous  scheme  does  not  really  mean  the  total  disso-  Solution 
lution  of  society,  as  it  would  seem  to  do  if  taken  literally. 
His  recommendation  is  not  a  fully  rounded  programme  for 
all  men,  one  may  say,  but  a  gospel  of  renunciation  for  the 
rich.  Let  the  idle  rich  go  back  to  the  soil,  learn  the  primary 
lesson  of  labor,  and  lead  the  simple  life,  and  we  shall  not 
be  troubled  with  social  problems. 


38 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays  [Vol.  1 


A  Peasant's 
Ideal 


Canon  of 
Altruism 


Possibly  this  may  be  correct ;  though  from  the  com- 
pleteness with  which  the  theory  is  elaborated,  the  passion- 
ate energy  with  which  it  is  urged,  the  solemn  religious  justi- 
fication cited  for  it,  the  single-minded  consistency  with 
which  it  is  brought  forth  in  all  Tolstoy's  works,  and  the 
complete  manner  in  which  it  accords  with  the  history  of  his 
development  and  the  life  that  he  chose  and  followed,  one 
can  hardly  believe  that  it  is  anything  but  what  it  purports 
to  be,  his  full  and  final  answer  to  the  problem  of  society. 
Back  of  the  formal  argument  is  always  the  deification  of 
manual  labor — the  peasant's  implicit  belief  that  any  other 
activity  is  factitious  and  indefensible,  or  at  the  most  jus- 
Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  distinctly  a  peasant's  ideal, 
tifiable  in  direct  proportion  as  it  approaches  physical  exer- 
tion. Intellectual  activities  are  strongly  criticized  and  dis- 
counted, and  allowed  for  the  most  part  only  insofar  as 
they  minister  directly  to  the  peasant's  welfare.  Here, 
again,  we  understand  readily  enough  the  genesis  of  Tolstoy's 
idea — that  to  him,  country-bred,  simple,  energetic,  con- 
scientious, the  society  surrounding  an  autocratic  court 
seemed  extremely  idle,  effete,  selfish,  and  pernicious,  and 
in  contrast,  the  country  with  its  freedom,  its  honest  toil, 
and  its  joy  of  life,  was  very  attractive.  But  of  course  his 
personal  feeling  is  without  any  universal  application  for  us. 
Nor  can  we  accept  his  canons  of  the  usefulness  of  a 
given  activity  to  society.  These,  it  will  be  remembered,  are 
two:  the  external  indication,  the  acknowledgement  of  the 
utility  by  those  for  whom  it  is  produced;  and  the  internal 
indication,  the  desire  to  be  of  use  to  others,  which  is  the 
motive  of  the  activity.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  latter  is 
not  true,  even  theoretically.  As  a  spring  of  action,  the 
principle  of  Egoism,  self-interest,  or  the  law  of  self-preser- 
vation, is  invariably  first  in  both  time  and  importance. 
Altruism  itself  is  only  the  recognition  of  the  ecjual  rights 
of  another  Ego ;  and  Jesus  Christ  himself,  in  enunciating 
His  summary  of  the  moral  law,  those  magnificent  principles 
which  constitute  the  finality  of  human  ethics,  could  put  the 


1^12]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  39 

matter  on  no  higher  practical  ground  than  when  lie  said, 
"Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.'"  Not  more, — that  is  im- 
possible. And  so,  in  our  purview  of  human  actions,  we 
must  not  expect  to  find  a  sheer  altruism  as  the  primary 
spring  of  conduct.  It  is  not  essential,  even  ethically;  and 
it  is  most  misleading  when  we  attempt  to  erect  it,  as  Tol- 
stoy does  here,  into  an  economic  criterion. 

For  the  individual  cannot  be  subtracted  from  the  social 
whole,  and  his  interests  are  at  bottom  indisseverable  from 
those  of  his  fellow-men.  The  whole  modern  commercial 
system  is  constructed  on  a  basis  of  absolute  self-interest; 
yet  so  closely  are  the  threads  of  mutual  consideration  inter- 
woven in  it,  that  out  of  it  have  grown  the  generous  sys- 
tem of  credits,  the  policy  of  quality,  the  inviolable  faith 
with  the  customer  necessitated  by  world-wide  advertising, 
the  liberal  care  of  employees,  with  provision  for  their  rest, 
diversion,  and  education,  and  voluntary  old-age  and  acci- 
dent pensions  in  many  companies.  Each  of  these  develop- 
ments, with  many  others  like  them,  was  dictated  by  a  heart- 
less commercialism  seeking  the  best  returns  for  its  money, — 
but  seeing  that  its  own  best  interests  and  those  of  the  com- 
munity were  one.  Yet  who  can  say  that  the  failure  of 
Tolstoy's  visionary  canon  of  altruistic  motive  in  their  case 
deprives  them  of  their  right  to  be  considered  as  good  in 
themselves'' 

Nor  does  he  fare  much  better  with  the  other  principle,  cj,j,on  of 
demanding  that  the  usefulness  be  recognized  by  its  re-  Recognition 
cipients.  In  a  broad  way,  nothing  could  be  more  obvious; 
and  in  a  state  like  Russia,  where  a  despotic  government  is 
imposed  upon  an  almost  unanimously  unwilling  people,  it 
might  seem  to  need  no  demonstration.  But  it  will  not  do 
to  argue  sweepingly,  as  Tolstoy  does,  that  government, 
trade,  education,  and  the  like,  are  never  good,  because  there 
are  always  some  objectors  to  them.  We  realize,  and  very 
properly,  that  the  majority  have  a  right  to  their  way  in  the 
matter.  And  for  countries  like  America  and  most  of 
Europe,   where   all  these  social   institutions   are   willingly 


40  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

accepted  and  supported  by  the  great  majority,  Tolstoy's 
reasoning  fails  altogether  of  cogency. 
Anarchy  The  fact  is,  that  in  this  utterance  there  breathes  the 

spirit  of  anarchy,  the  unquenchable  antagonism  to  any  kind 
of  authority.  So  he  argues  that  the  building  of  a '  road 
across  a  swamp  is  of  advantage  only  to  those  who  con- 
sider it  such,  and  who  voluntarily  decide  to  take  part  in 
its  construction.  It  should  be  obvious  enough  that  such  a 
public  work  is  of  advantage  to  all  the  people,  whether  they 
happened  to  think  so  at  the  moment  or  not ;  and  that  here 
as  elsewhere  the  majority  has  a  right  to  coerce  the  unwilling 
majority  to  assist  in  what,  when  finished,  will  benefit  all 
alike.  But  in  Tolstoy,  the  very  idea  of  "must"  rouses  a 
sort  of  barbaric  rage  not  distinguishable  to  him  from  the 
sense  of  outraged  justice,  and  it  seems  to  him  the  greatest 
of  evils.  This  continually  appears  in  the  primitive  ferocity 
of  indignation  with  which  he  speaks  of  the  taxes,  the 
economic  laws,  and  the  established  constitution  of  the  social 
order:  violence  is  his  one  word,  used  again  and  again, 
for  all  their  compulsion.  "Muss  ist  eine  liarte  Nuss,"  says 
the  German  proverb.  This  invincible  opposition  is  the 
natural  product  of  a  tyrannous  autocracy;  but  under  a 
democratic  regime,  where  it  is  Society  itself  that  speaks 
in  command,  we  cannot  feel  that  this  standpoint  has  much 
weight. 

(d)  Conclusions 

What  then  remains  of  Tolstoy 's  system  ?  Every  car- 
dinal step  of  his  argument  is  vitiated,  as  far  as  any  univer- 
sal cogency  and  applicability  is  concerned,  by  the  one-sided- 
ness  of  his  reaction,  or  the  particularity  of  the  social  con- 
ditions from  which  he  drew  his  inferences.  His  emphasis 
on  the  struggle  with  nature,  his  praise  of  manual  labor, 
his  attitude  toward  city  problems,  his  criticism  of  science, 
art,  and  education,  his  analysis  of  the  factors  of  produc- 
tion, and  his  concept  of  property,  are  such  as  are  possible 
only  to  one  who  was  all  his  life,  by  temperament  and  by 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  41 

choice  a  peasant.  His  rejection  of  the  doctrine  of  the  organic 
constitution  of  society,  and  of  the  division  of  labor,  was  an 
almost  purely  negative  revolt  from  the  spectacle  of  a  des- 
potic government,  supporting  an  idle  and  parasitic  circle 
of  society,  and  nourishing  itself  by  ruinous  taxation  upon 
an  unwilling  and  impoverished  people.  His  philosophy  of 
money  is  applicable  only  to  the  same  social  status.  His 
idea  of  property  is  an  ascetic  extreme.  And  his  proposed 
plan  of  social  reconstruction,  if  literally  interpreted,  can 
be  characterized  only  as  the  suicide  of  society. 

Yet  even  though  a  failure  as  a  theory,  it  is  magnificent 
failure.  The  inarticulate  protest  of  the  toiler  from  thous- 
ands of  years  has  found  the  voice  of  genius,  and  in  lan- 
guage of  almost  prophetic  fire  and  grandeur  arraigns 
the  idle  rich.  For  their  insincere  and  futile  charities;  for 
their  selfish  exclusiveness  toward  the  poor;  for  their  im- 
moral idleness ;  for  the  debauching  efi'ect  of  their  luxuries 
and  their  useless  lives  upon  the  lives  of  the  toilers;  for 
their  destruction  of  the  labors  of  others ;  for  their  deprav- 
ing the  brightest  minds  with  an  impractical  art  and  sci- 
ence; for  their  deafness  to  the  promptings  of  conscience: 
for  their  despotic  use  of  the  power  of  money  to  enforce  on 
the  needy  the  most  distasteful  and  degrading  services,  on 
the  pain  of  starvation — for  all  these  crimes  Tolstoy  arraigns 
them;  and  finally  denounces  upon  them  the  peril  of  the 
indignation  of  labor  for  their  parasitic  lives,  and  the  im- 
minent explosion  of  the  submerged  forces  in  a  universal 
social  revolution,  unless  they  set  their  houses  in  order,  and 
prepare  for  the  wrath  to  come. 

And  all  these  things  are  just  as  vital  at  this  moment 
as  when  they  were  first  written.  We  are  awake  to  his 
trumpet-peal  of  conscience :  and  the  questions  which  he 
puts  before  us  so  forcefully  are  the  fundamental  problems 
of  society,  those  which  before  all  others  our  generation  has 
set  itself  to  solve.    Such  is  his  message  to  our  present  age. 


42  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 


V.    THE  PROBLEMS  OF  TODAY 

The  Age  of  Tliis  is  the  age  of  conscience.    In  part  at  least  we  have 

Conscience  passc  out  of  the  period  of  mystical  faith;  and  the  prevail- 
ing religion,  as  Tolstoy  said,  is  "not  a  mystical  teaching, 
but  a  new  concept  of  life. ' '  *^  We  are  no  longer  quite 
content  to  profess  a  system  of  intellectual  metaphysics,  and 
live  lives  that  contradict  the  first  principles  of  true  re- 
ligion. Deed  is  our  creed,  and  action  our  oblation.  And 
whatever  the  Church  has  lost  in  prestige  as  an  exclusive 
institution,  it  has  gained  tenfold  in  the  acceptance  of  its 
gospel  in  the  hearts  of  all  men. 

Within  the  last  decade,  the  calm  of  the  nation  has  been 
broken  as  by  thunder-peal  and  earthquake-shock,  in  the 
astonishing  revelations  of  social  corruption — the  cut- 
throat business  methods  of  grasping  monopolies ;  anarchistic 
violence  of  organized  labor;  city  after  city  shown  to  be 
rotten  to  the  core  with  unblushing  graft;  the  government 
of  a  great  nation  dominated  by  political  machines;  the 
cruel  barbarisms  of  war  in  the  twentieth  century  of  en- 
lightenment; last  and  by  no  means  the  least,  the  deep  dis- 
grace of  white  slavery.  And  perhaps  there  have  been  those 
who  have  wondered  at  times  if  the  words  of  Daniel  Webster 
were  after  all  to  be  unhappily  realized — if  this  country, 
which  had  begun  its  trial  of  the  republican  form  of  gov- 
ernment under  the  fairest  auspices  in  history,  were  never- 
theless to  prove  by  its  failure  that  a  republic  was  forever 
impossible.  But  that  was  not  the  meaning  of  events.  If 
the  world  for  a  time  has  looked  evil,  it  is  because  those  in 
whose  hands  lies  the  making  of  the  world  have  grown  bet- 
ter, and  are  even  now  taking  counsel  with  their  own  hearts 
and  with  each  other,  and  gathering  their  strength  to  lift 
its  destinies  to  their  own  higher  level.  The  last  decade  has 
seen  an  awakening  of  the  popular  conscience  without  pre- 


4"  Subtitle  of  The  Kingdom  of  God  Is  Within  You. 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  43 

cedeut  in  the  history  of  mankind ;  and  our  age  is  now  facing 
some  of  the  immemorial  problems  of  society,  evils  as  old  as 
civilization,  with  a  fundamental  earnestness  such  as  the 
world  has  never  seen. 

In  the  forefront  of  these  questions  of  the  age  is  the  Property 
ancient  problem  of  property.  Property  in  some  form 
there  always  has  been  and  always  must  be,  all  the  socialistic 
extremists  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  As  we  have 
seen,  all  thinkers  have  found  this  principle  integral  to  the 
concept  of  personality.  It  is  indispensable  to  the  consti- 
tution of  the  home,  and  thus  lies  at  the  foundation  of  any 
true  society.  It  is  the  reward  of  initiative,  and  as  such  it 
is  the  prime  source  of  all  advance. 

But  not  all  kinds  of  property  are  ethically  or  socially 
right.  Property  in  the  persons  of  others,  bodily  slavery, 
has  vanished  into  the  past :  but  any  other  form  of  property 
that  produces  the  effects  of  personal  slavery  must  go  too. 
Tolstoy  is  absolutely  correct  in  saying  that  certain  forms 
of  property  are  really  tantamount  to  the  enslaving  of  those 
who  are  without  them.  Private  tenure  of  natural  re- 
sources ;  monopolization  of  necessities  of  any  kind ;  individ- 
ual ownership  of  public  utilities;  excessive  accumulations 
of  wealth ;  control  of  the  machinery  of  production  and  of 
distribution :  all  these  involve  despotic  power  of  some  men 
over  others ;  and  their  adjustment  to  the  needs  of  modern 
society  is  one  of  our  gravest  concerns. 

Even  the  legal  system  is  feeling  the  change.  The  old  rroperty  Rights 
Eoman  right  of  occupation — ultimatel.y,  as  Tolstoy  points 
out,  a  principle  of  force — is  giving  waj^  to  the  newer  funda- 
mental right  of  labor.  The  principle  of  property,  which 
is  enshrined  in  our  Constitution,  and  which  has  always 
been  held  as  the  corner-stone  of  our  jurisprudence,  is  at 
last,  in  the  latest  judicial  decisions,  in  response  to  the  over- 
whelming popular  sentiment  throughout  the  country,  yield- 
ing place  to  the  more  sacred  principle  of  personality. 

Property  in  the  means  of  production,  as  the  Russian 


44  University  of  Calif oriiia  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

thinker  Philippovieh  indicated,*^  means  control  not  only- 
over  the  material  factors  involved,  but  the  personal  as  well. 
A  great  industrial  organization  exercises  a  practically  mili- 
tary domain  over  its  employees;  and,  as  we  have  at  times 
seen  in  connection  with  the  coal  barons,  the  great  railroads, 
or  the  Steel  Trust,  this  control  may  be  most  despotic.  Natur- 
ally enough,  force  has  evoked  force,  and  we  have  had  com- 
binations of  labor  *'in  restraint  of  trade"  just  as  actual, 
oftentimes  just  as  powerful,  as  the  monopolistic  aggrega- 
tions of  capital.  Violence  has  called  forth  violence;  and 
whichever  side  won  in  the  trade  wars  that  followed,  it  has 
always  been  the  public,  the  consumers,  that  have  suffered 
the  loss,  caught  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  mill- 
stones. The  last  general  railway  strike,  that  brought  a 
nation  within  a  step  of  famine,  and  the  coal  strike,  which, 
even  as  this  is  written,  seems  to  have  the  country  by  the 
throat,  have  almost  persuaded  conservative  England  of 
what  her  daughter.  New  Zealand,  the  most  progressive  na- 
tion in  the  world,  saw  years  ago,  that  two  wrongs  can 
never  make  a  right;  that  society  cannot  permit  either  the 
starving  of  a  servant,  or  the  strangling  of  an  employer; 
and  that  in  all  these  partisan  conflicts,  true  justice  is  to 
be  expected  only  from  those  who  must  inevitably  suffer  in 
the  end  from  any  injustice,  the  people  as  a  whole. 
The  Problem  There  is   a   larger  problem   here,   toward  whose  solu- 

of  Commerce  i{q^  -^g  are  Still  Struggling,  but  whose  end  is  not  yet  in 
sight.  There  is  no  question  that  the  very  existence  of  our 
modern  society  is  bound  up  in  a  very  complex  system  of 
production  and  distribution.  The  daily  bread  of  the  world 
depends  upon  it;  and  its  abrogation  by  any  such  short- 
cut as  Tolstoy  proposes  is  impossible,  and  will  become  in- 
creasingly impossible  with  the  growth  of  the  population 
of  the  world.  Nothing  could  be  clearer  than  that  some- 
thing is  amiss  with  it;  the  world-wide  outcry  against  high 
prices  is  witness  to  this  fact.  But  just  what  has  happened 
to  the  necessaries  of  life  between  the  Jerusalem  of  the  pro- 


48   Cf.  Walter,  Tolstoi,  p.  91. 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  45 

ducer  and  the  Jericho  of  the  consumer,  congressional  in- 
vestigations have  not  yet  clearly  informed  us — though  some- 
times we  have  our  suspicions.  The  trusts,  cold  storage, 
valorization,  transportation,  the  commission  merchant,  the 
wholesaler,  the  retailer  in  the  corner  grocery  store,  all  have 
their  share  of  imputed  blame.  But  however  we  may  appor- 
tion it,  however  we  may  think  that  the  machinery  of  dis- 
tribution should  be  divided,  combined,  or  controlled,  the 
essential  economic  iniquity  can  be  stated  in  one  word :  Ex- 
propriation. For  the  laborer  never  receives  the  full  wage 
of  his  labor,  the  producer  never  receives  the  full  worth  of 
his  product.  Each  man  who  has  the  power  exacts  a  toll 
on  what  passes  through  his  hands,  beyond  the  value  of  his 
service  to  society.  Such  has  always  been  the  case;  pos- 
sibly it  always  will  be.  But  when  this  power  is  exercised 
by  financial  potentates  before  whom  Croesus  was  poor, 
Solomon  simple,  and  Charlemagne,  a  petty  prince,  the  use 
and  abuse  of  it  may  become  most  ominous  to  society. 

The  era  of  competition  is  gone  forever.  Even  if  it  were 
possible  to  restore  it,  it  would  not  be  advisable.  Economies 
of  unified  production  and  distribution,  and  commercial  sta- 
bility of  prices  and  of  demand,  are  advantages  too  import- 
ant to  be  waived.  Though  the  cost  of  living  may  be 
high  under  the  trusts,  yet  in  our  present  economic  develop- 
ment it  would  certainly  be  higher  still  without  them.  But 
in  all  the  consumer  must  be  protected;  and  the  most  dis- 
cerning of  the  kings  of  finance  themselves  have  seen  that 
the  only  solution  is  a  sane  government  regulation,  and 
the  fixing  of  maximum  prices.  We  already  do  this  to  some 
extent  with  the  railroads.  And  chimerical  or  impossible 
as  this  may  have  been  in  the  days  of  free  competition,  it 
is  becoming  indispensable  in  the  days  of  monopolies. 

Some  attempt  at  the  solution  of  the  problem  from  within 
has  been  made  in  England  in  a  sj^stem  of  cooperative  stores, 
now  of  no  mean  magnitude,  and  including  wholesaling  and 
manufacturing  institutions  in  its  organization.  The  cooper- 
ative principle  has  also  been  applied  elsewhere  to  the  rela- 


46  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

tions  of  capital  and  labor,  always  with  excellent  results 
within  the  scope  of  its  activity.  Labor-unions  in  general, 
however,  have  been  so  bent  on  sharply  drawing  the  class- 
distinctions  of  employer  and  employee,  that  for  the  most 
part  they  have  not  engaged  in  cooperative  enterprises  of 
production ;  and  there  have  even  been  demagogic  leaders  of 
their  unions  who  have  covertly  attacked  the  companies 
that  have  adopted  this  plan,  because  their  existence  under- 
mines their  chief  argument  of  class-hatred.  But  if  they 
can  be  brought  to  see  that  here  is  a  legitimate  goal  of  their 
efforts,  we  may  yet  enter  upon  a  new  era  of  labor,  based 
not  on  antagonism,  but  on  cooperation. 
Capital  However,  the  great  aggregations  of  capital  are  there, 

and  men  are  even  now  beginning  to  speak  of  the  "Money 
Trust."  What  to  do  with  them,  how  to  curb  their  unre- 
stricted sway,  eventually  perhaps  how  to  restore  possession 
of  their  wealth  to  the  people,  are  the  problems  of  the  time. 
Hitherto  they  have  been  very  largely  outside  the  control 
of  the  State,  for  they  were  intangible,  and  as  "personal 
property,"  were  sworn  off  the  assessment-lists.  Bvit  with 
the  coming  governmental  control  of  corporations  and  over- 
sight of  great  financial  matters,  they  will  be  made  to  feel 
that  they  are  under,  not  above,  the  law.  A  national  in- 
come tax  must  come  in  time ;  and  even  the  present  plans 
for  it  reveal  the  fact  that  it  will  be  based  not  only  on  the 
need  for  revenue,  but  on  a  deliberate  policy  of  the  reduc- 
tion of  swollen  fortunes.  And  the  recent  beginnings  of 
inheritance-taxes  are  even  more  clearly  so  directed. 
The  New  For  in  the  last  analysis  Ave  are  coming  to  a  new  con- 

Economics  ception  of  economic  relations,  as  we  have  had  to  come  to 
a  new  conception  of  political  relations.  Time  was  when 
the  fundamental  thesis  of  political  theory  was,  "All  au- 
thority is  of  God."  That  was  the  era  of  the  divine  right 
of  rulers,  of  autocracy  and  oppression,  of  political  slavery. 
But  slowly  though  surely  all  the  world  has  been  brought 
toward  the  realization  that  all  authority  is  of  the  people; 
that  all  government  is  delegated,  and  that  its  fundamental 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  47 

principal  lies  in  the  consent  of  the  governed.  And  peace- 
ably or  by  force,  by  evolution  more  than  by  revolution, 
the  political  fabric  of  society  has  been  changed.  The 
people  have  resumed  their  own. 

The  same  is  true  of  economics.  All  wealth  is  of  the 
people.  There  is  no  divine  right  whereby  one  man  may 
have  an  inexhaustible  superfluity,  while  others  are  in  want. 
And  though  we  may  now  be  passing  through  stages  of  com- 
mercial feudalism  and  of  commercial  autocracy,  the  time 
must  inevitably  come  when  the  people  will  resume  their 
own.  As  Tolstoy  said  in  his  Besurredion,  the  land  which 
is  needful  to  them,  "the  land  which  has  been  taken  from 
them  [must]  be  returned  to  them."  For  "the  ground  be- 
longs to  those  who  cultivate  it,  not  to  those  who  do  not.  . 
.  .  The  fruits  of  their  labor  belong  to  the  laborers.  .  .  . 
Capital  and  the  means  of  production  are  the  true  property 
of  the  associations  of  producers."*^ 

Such  a  consummation  may  be  rather  remote.  But  it  socialism 
is  certainly  true  that  the  once-dreaded  name  of  Socialism 
arouses  no  such  thrill  of  horror  as  it  once  did  in  America. 
Parties  regarded  as  the  acme  of  conservatism  have  adopted 
as  planks  of  their  platforms  ideas  once  thought  the  sign- 
manual  of  rabid  socialists.  The  government  management 
of  the  mails  is  essentially  socialistic ;  and  it  is  only  a  ques- 
tion of  time  when  the  express,  the  telephone,  and  the  tele- 
graph services  will  also  be  operated  by  the  government  in 
connection  wath  the  post-office,  as  has  long  been  the  case 
in  Europe.  The  national  policy  of  conservation  is  social- 
istic, for  it  is  based  on  the  deliberate  theory  that  the  re- 
sources of  the  country  belong  to  the  whole  people,  and  are 
not  to  be  exploited  for  the  profit  of  individuals.  Gradually, 
with  a  somewhat  uncertain  step,  we  are  approaching  the 
goal  of  municipal  ownership  of  all  public  utilities,  light, 
water,  even  transportation  and  communication.  And  far 
ahead,  yet  surely  to  be  realized,  looms  the  nationalization  of 
the  railways,  with,  perhaps,  the  control  of  other  universal 


49  Tr.  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1905),  I,  320,  321. 


48 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 


Social 
Efficiency 


Commercial 
Advances 


necessities  in  its  train.  And  all  economic  indications  alike 
point  forward  to  the  time  when  the  true  democratic  ideal 
will  be  realized,  and  the  people  will  be,  in  fact  as  well  as 
in  theory,  supreme. 

With  the  economic  there  has  come  a  social  awakening. 
We  are  not  unresponsive  to  Tolstoy's  gospel  of  work.  We 
are  no  longer  wholly  willing  to  let  the  complexities  of  the 
social  order  blind  us  to  the  duty  of  giving  society  some 
return  for  our  existence.  The  gospel  of  efficiency  is  abroad 
in  the  land.  Purely  impractical  science,  purely  esoteric  art, 
purely  theoretical  religion,  find  few  defenders.  We  are  re- 
quiring that  nothing  be  taught  our  children  under  the  guise 
of  disciplining  and  developing  their  minds  which  does  not 
have  an  actual  value  for  life  in  itself.  We  are  testing 
even  the  citadels  of  conservatism,  the  universities,  for  their 
net  results.  We  are  demanding  that  our  doctor's  theses 
be  on  subjects  of  some  possible  human  use  and  interest. 
We  are  realizing,  as  notably  in  Wisconsin,  that  the  first 
duty  of  a  state  university  is  to  serve  the  state.  All  our 
education,  our  culture,  is  to  be  a  means  of  social  service: 
we  will  not  have  it  said  of  us,  as  Tolstoy  said  of  the  educated 
of  his  day,  that  "we  are  still  conversing  among  ourselves, 
and  teaching  each  other,  and  amusing  ourselves,  and  have 
quite  forgotten  the  people."  We  are  really  turning  the 
resources  of  our  civilization  to  their  truest  human  use — 
to  make  the  people  of  the  world  better  and  happier. 

Our  very  commercialism,  pursuing  its  own  profit  ex- 
clusively, in  a  way  alien  to  all  Tolstoy's  canons  of  useful- 
ness, has  made  life  much  more  worth  the  living.  It  has 
increased  the  luxuries  of  life,  and  also  the  people's  abilities 
to  possess  them.  It  has  popularized  art,  by  putting  it 
within  every  one's  reach.  It  has  spread  information 
through  magazines,  and  propagated  culture  through  books. 
And  while  it  has  been  thus  multiplying  our  enjoyments, 
and  raising  the  whole  standard  of  living  to  a  higher  level, 
it  has  been  the  main  ally  of  science,  in  its  attempt  to  make 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  49 

the  life  of  the  people  longer  and  happier,  and  to  stamp  out 
the  swarming  trivial  causes  of  sudden  death. 

We  are  insisting  on  improving  the  conditions  of  the  conditions 
laborer.  That  phase  of  the  division  of  labor  which  Ruskin  o*"  Labor 
said  made  a  man  a  mere  wheel  of  a  machine ;  against  which 
Adam  Smith  complained  that  it  absorbed  a  man  in  a  detail 
of  mechanical  operation,  and  left  him  no  chance  to  utilize 
his  own  mind  and  initiative;  which  Noschin  said"'"  was  a 
destroyer  of  individualit3%  and  of  the  needed  solidarity 
between  the  social  classes ;  that  tyranny  of  machinery 
which  Uspenski^^  attacked  as  killing  the  spirit,  taking  a 
man  from  his  family,  condemning  him  to  monotonous 
labor,  and  reducing  him  to  a  mere  part;  this  concern  with 
the  "eighteenth  part  of  a  sewing-needle," — is  gradually 
giving  way  before  a  more  enlightened  attitude.  For,  apart 
from  the  efforts  of  the  trade-unions  and  of  philanthropists 
to  improve  the  condition  of  labor,  the  great  employers  are 
doing  the  same.  Intelligence,  they  see,  is  more  valuable 
to  them  in  the  long  run  than  mere  unintelligent  dexterity. 
And  so,  by  free  trade-schools,  by  alternations  of  routine, 
by  bonuses  for  expedited  work,  by  rewards  for  inventions, 
everything  is  being  done  that  can  be  done  to  lift  the  con- 
dition of  the  laborer  to  the  higher  level  of  intelligence. 

Now,  at  last,  we  are  facing  the  trouble  of  those  city 
festering  sores  of  civilization  whose  misery  turned  Tol-  ^'^ery 
stoy's  mind  to  the  consideration  of  the  whole  state  of 
society:  the  evil  of  city  life.  And  here  indeed  we  recog- 
nize the  wisdom  of  Tolstoy's  conclusion — that  real  good 
cannot  be  done  by  the  mere  giving  of  money,  or  by  any 
of  the  superficial  activities  of  conventional  philanthropy. 
The  real  cause  of  the  wretchedness  of  the  lives  of  the  "sub- 
merged" individuals  in  cities  lies,  after  all,  in  themselves. 
They  are  unhappy  because  they  have  the  wrong  view  of 
life;  and  as  long  as  they  hold  this  life-conception  they  will 


eoCf.  Walter,   Tolstoi,  p.   51   ff. 
61 /bid.,  p.  55. 


50  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

be  unhappy  anywhere.  But  to  this  most  difficult  of  prob- 
lems, how  to  help  the  helpless  to  help  themselves,  we  are 
addressing  ourselves. 

Attempts  have  been  made,  as  notably  by  the  Salvation 
Army,  to  relieve  congestion  and  its  consequent  misery  by 
plans  of  colonization  in  the  country.  These  experiments 
have  not  been  particularly  successful;  for  it  was  found 
that  if  a  man  was  vicious  and  shiftless  in  the  city,  he 
remained  vicious  and  shiftless  in  the  country.  Most  of 
these  people  were  corrupted  by  just  the  evil  Tolstoy  attri- 
butes to  them — the  contagious  life-conception  of  the  rich, 
to  get  something  for  nothing,  to  live  without  working.  And 
when  a  man  is  once  accustomed  to  the  excitement  of  the 
crowds  and  diversions  of  a  city,  lie  is  discontented  with  the 
lonesomeness  and  monotony  of  life  in  the  country.  It  is 
just  as  Tolstoy  indicated — we  have  to  provide  not  only 
for  the  necessities  of  life  for  these  men,  but  for  the  whole 
of  life;  not  only  for  the  hours  of  their  leisure,  but  for  the 
hours  of  their  relaxation  and  amusement. 

To  do  these  people  any  real  good,  we  must,  as  Tolstoy 
insisted,  change  their  view  of  life;  in  short,  convert  them. 
This  is  why  social  settlements  have  been  the  cause  of  so 
much  actual  benefit.  Without  attempting  to  bring  about 
an}^  radical  change  in  externals,  they  have  brought  into 
contact  with  the  degraded  lives  of  the  people  the  force 
of  a  concrete  and  self-sacrificing  example.  They  have 
taught  them  how  to  live,  by  the  present  picture  of  a  life. 
And,  in  conjunction  with  the  higher  forces  of  ethical  re- 
ligion, they  are  slowly  winning  the  day. 

There  are,  of  course,  also  the  usual  resources,  the  im- 
provement of  material  surroundings,  better  tenements, 
parks,  clean  streets,  and  domestic  sanitation.  Even  the 
shiftless  benefit  by  these.  And  there  are  the  great  influences 
of  universal  education  of  the  young,  whereby  even  the 
lowest  classes  of  the  largest  cities  are  being  trained  in  real 
citizenship.  Perhaps  it  is  through  this  last  means  most  of 
all  that  the  regeneration  of  the  slums  is  to  be  accomplished. 


1912]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  51 

Last  and  lowest  of  all,  the  greatest  pity  and  the  greatest  white 
shame  of  the  cities,  and  the  blackest  spot  upon  the  civiliza-  ^^^"^^^^ 
tion  of  the  twentieth  Christian  century,  is  that  disgrace 
called  par  eminence  the  Social  Evil.  And  although  hither- 
to men  have  always  said,  as  Tolstoy  does,  that  these  unfor- 
tunates "have  always  existed,  do  exist,  and  are  so  neces- 
sary to  society,  that  there  are  officials  deputed  by  the 
government  to  see  that  they  conform  to  regulations"^- — yet 
now  this  ancient  outrage  is  at  last  tearing  the  hearts  and 
arousing  the  consciences  of  all  who  can  lay  any  claim  to  any 
measure  of  humanity.  And  who  can  doubt  that  the  day  is 
at  hand,  when,  as  Jane  Addams  says,^^  this  immemorial 
disgrace  of  white  slavery,  as  old  and  as  inveterately  rooted 
in  the  being  of  society  as  manhood  slavery  has  been,  must 
also,  like  that  slavery,  finally  be  wiped  from  the  face  of 
the  earth? 

In  all  these  varied  ways,  our  age  is  preeminently  striv-  individualism 
ing  toward  the  emancipation  of  the  individual.     It  is  not  ^^^ 

.  Collectivism 

a  new  struggle ;  indeed  it  may  be  said  that  there  never  has 
been  any  other,  but  that  in  the  world-old  conflict  of  democ- 
racy with  tyranny,  of  the  plebeian  with  the  patrician,  of 
the  serf  with  the  overlord,  of  the  oppressed  with  the  op- 
pressor, the  whole  course  of  history  records  the  evolution 
of  human  freedom.  And  in  our  day  this  enfranchisement 
of  the  spirit  has  reached  its  latest  and  highest  development, 
in  the  universal  protest  of  the  foundation-classes  of  society 
against  ancient  wrong  and  oppression,  against  all  special 
privilege  political,  social,  or  economic.  At  the  same  time, 
this  development  is  not  tak'ng  with  us  the  form  of  a  one- 
sided individualism,  for  in  it  all  the  social  principle  is 
being  appreciated  as  never  before.  We  have  found  that 
the  greatest  emphasis  on  the  value  of  personality  and  the 
highest  possible  development  of  the  individual  is  insepar- 


52  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  39   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  46). 
!i3  See  A  Netu  Conscience  and  an  Ancient  Evil   (New  York,  Mac- 
millan;  1912). 


52  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

able    from    a    true    socialism,     a    universal    brotherhood 
grounded  in  the  living  unity  of  humankind. 
Our  Debt  These  traits   of  the  new  era — social  principles   whose 

to  Tolstoy  obligation  the  generality  of  mankind  have  been  so  late  in 

realizing,  problems  which  are  even  now  being  slowly  and 
tentatively  worked  out  in  the  laboratory  of  American  pol- 
itics— Tolstoy  saw  with  the  vision  of  a  prophet,  and  pro- 
claimed with  the  fervor  of  an  apostle.  No  one  has  felt 
more  deeply,  or  denounced  with  more  passionate  earnest- 
ness, the  artificial  life  and  factitious  activities  of  the  "lei- 
sure classes"  and  the  "higher  circles"  of  society;  or  the 
futility  of  abstruse  science  and  recondite  art,  divisive 
forces,  where  they  should  be  human  and  humanizing, 
uniting  mankind  in  the  bonds  of  a  living  sympathy.  No 
one  has  set  forth  more  movingly  the  attraction  and  the 
duty  of  the  simple  life,  the  call  of  honorable  labor,  with  all 
its  sanity,  strength,  and  virtue,  its  fully-rounded  develop- 
ment of  all  the  powers  of  a  man.  For  his  indeed  is  the 
gospel  of  labor,  the  duty  of  giving  the  world  a  fair  return 
of  service  for  the  subsistence  it  gives  to  us;  and  his  also 
is  the  complementary  truth  of  the  right  of  labor  to  the  full 
reward  of  its  exertions.  True  justice  speaks  in  his  ar- 
raignment of  dead  accumulations  of  capital,  enslaving  the 
laborers  in  order  to  sustain  its  possessors  in  vicious  idleness. 
His  own  self-effacement,  his  pity  for  the  misery  of  the 
toilers,  his  clear  discernment  of  the  ineificacy  of  material 
means  of  alleviating  this  misery,  his  emphasis  on  the  neces- 
sity for  vital  personal  contact,  witness  to  his  profound  feel- 
ing for  the  unity  of  humanity,  and  reflect  the  perfect  altru- 
ism of  one  who  could  distrust  even  the  Golden  Rule,  as 
containing  the  taint  of  self.^* 

To  all  these  trumpet-calls  of  conscience  we  are  well 
awake.  But  especially,  in  an  age  when  material  prosperity 
is  at  a  higher  level  than  ever  before  in  the  history  of  the 


54  Tolstoy,  Conversations  with  Teneromo:  see  E.  Rolland,  Tolstoy, 
tr.  Miall  (New  York,  Button,  1911),  p.  274. 


19i2]  Jones:  Tolstoy  and  Social  Problems  53 

race,  we  need  to  follow  his  warning,  not  to  trust  to  mere 
external  means,  not  to  deify  machinery,  but  to  seek  first 
the  inner  human  factors  of  the  human  problem. 

Hence,  however  much  we  may  recognize  the  material 
inequalities  of  the  present  economic  status,  however  justly 
and  earnestly  we  may  strive  to  right  them  directly,  we  still 
cannot  trust  those  propagandists  who  would  claim  that 
merely  by  a  redistribution  of  wealth  the  millennium  is  to 
be  attained.  Such  can  never  be  the  case,  so  long  as  human 
nature  remains  what  it  is ;  and  all  true  amelioration  of 
mankind  must  be  sought,  not  from  without,  but  from 
within,  by  lifting  humanity  itself  to  the  higher  level  of 
the  spirit.  It  is  a  false  and  futile  Socialism  that  makes 
its  challenging  demand,  "What  is  yours,  is  mine."  The 
betterment  of  the  race  is  to  be  sought  far  rather  in  the 
brotherly  charity  of  a  truly  Christian  Socialism,  which 
generously  grants,  "What  is  mine,  is  yours."  This  prin- 
ciple of  self-forgetfulness,  of  true  love  of  one's  fellow-men, 
was  the  very  heart  of  Tolstoy's  thought  and  life,  and 
remains  the  abiding  element  in  his  teaching. 

The  world  moves :  and  though  the  solution  of  its  ancient 
problems  may  still  be  far  distant;  though  no  man  can  now 
clearly  foresee  the  end;  and  though  it  is  certainly  not  to 
be  attained  with  all  the  simplicity  that  Tolstoy  thought 
possible :  yet  we  share  with  him  his  deep  desire  for  that 
consummation,  and  we  move  toward  it  in  a  spirit  one  with 
his:  "Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law 
of  Christ. '"^5 

55  Gal.   vi.  2, 


THE  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  WHAT  IS  TO  BE 

DONE?  TO  THE  PRESENT  REBUILDING 

OF  THE  SOCIAL  STRUCTURE 


SHELDON  WAREEN  CHENEY, 

A.B.,    1908 


CONTENTS 

Part  I.  An  Interpretation  of  What  Is  To  Be  Done? 

I.  Introduction.     Tolstoy's  Life,  Character  and  Influence  57 

XL  Tolstoy's  Picture  of  a  Diseased  Society 67 

III.  Tolstoy's  Diagnosis  74 

IV.  Tolstoy's  Suggested  Eemedy  82 

Part  II.  A  Critical  Estimate  of  the  Value  of  the  Book 
to  the  Present  Rebuilding  of  the  Social 
Structure 

V.     The  Value  of  the  Picture  and  Diagnosis 91 

VI.     The  Value  of  the  Eemedy  96 

VII.     Conclusion    118 


[561 


THE  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  WHAT  IS  TO 
BE  DONEf  TO  THE  PRESENT  RE- 
BUILDING OF  THE  SOCIAL 
STRUCTURE 


BEING   AN   INTERPRETATION   OF   THE   BOOK    AND   A 

CRITICAL    ESTIMATE    OF    ITS    INFLUENCE 

ON  THE  SOCIAL  MOVEMENT 


PART  I.     AN  INTERPRETATION  OF  WHAT  IS  TO 
BE  DONEf 

CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION.     TOLSTOY'S  LIFE,  CHARACTER, 
AND  INFLUENCE 

What  Is  To  Be  Donef  is  Leo  Tolstoy's  contribution  to  ^^^  ^^^  ^  ^^ 
humanity's  effort  for  social  justice.     Incidentally  the  book  what  is  To 
treats  of  every  subject  vital  to  human  welfare;  but  funda-  ^^  ^°^^- 
mentally  it  treats  of  that  one  greatest  blot  on  civilization, 
poverty.    It  is  an  exposition  of  misery,  a  study  of  the  causes 
of  that  misery,  and  an  attempt  to  propound  a  cure.     Tol- 
stoy, in  his  many  books,  has  written  of  every  phase  of 
human  experience  and  achievement:  religion,  ethics,  phil- 

[57] 


58  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 

osophy,  art,  science,  education,  the  sex  problem,  the  struggle 
for  life,  war,  government — everything,  indeed,  which  touches 
man's  spiritual  or  material  being.  Out  of  his  manifold 
physical  experience,  and  out  of  the  mind  which  had 
struggled  with  each  of  these  problems  of  life,  Tolstoy 
evolved  the  book  What  Is  To  Be  Donef,  attempting  to  re- 
plan  the  world's  social  structure  in  the  light  of  the  con- 
victions he  had  reached  in  those  struggles. 

The  prophet — from  the  great  Jesus,  who  was  crucified 
because  he  stirred  up  the  people  (in  the  modern  phrase, 
"hurt  business"),  to  the  lesser  leaders  of  our  own  restive 
time — is  always  a  storm  center.  The  prophet  Tolstoy  was 
the  greatest  figure  of  his  age,  judged  not  by  the  few  who, 
carried  away  by  his  titanic  force,  follow  blindly,  nor  by 
the  many  who  ignore  or  misunderstand  him,  but  by  the 
attitude  of  the  great  understanding,  thinking  world,  which 
made  his  isolated  home  a  Mecca  for  social  and  religious 
reformers.  To  his  death  he  was  the  most  eulogized,  yet 
most  abused,  the  most  accvised,  yet  most  honored  figure  in 
the  world. 

No  balanced,  thinking  man  has  accepted  Tolstoy's  creed 
in  toto,  nor  would  Tolstoy  wish  it  so,  but  every  man  who 
has  taken  pains  to  pierce  the  cloud  of  confusion  which 
Tolstoy  and  his  accusers  and  believers  have  raised  about 
his  works,  has  seen  the  true  soul  of  the  man  back  of  it 
all,  and  has  proclaimed  him  the  prophet. 

This  universal  acceptance,  even  where  some  of  the  doc- 
trines are  repudiated,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  Tolstoy's  beliefs, 
when  stripped  of  all  their  radicalisms  and  overstatements, 
stand  out  as  the  truest  and  most  wholesome  of  all  systems 
of  religious  and  ethical  conduct — the  clearest  exposition  of 
man's  duty  to  man — and  the  most  sincere  effort  to  bring 
about  the  reign  of  justice  and  equality  on  earth  that  the 
modern  Avorld  has  known. 
Purpose  of  This  essay  is  an  attempt  to  detach  this  core  of  truth 

from  the  surrounding  mass  of  detail  and  extraneous  mat- 
ter, as  the  whole  is  bound  up  in  the  ill-arranged  book. 


the  Essay 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  59 

What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  and  to  trace  the  influence  of  the 
doctrines  on  the  social  movement :  in  short,  to  interpret 
Tolstoy's  message  and  to  estimate  its  value  to  the  current 
social  reconstruction.  In  condensing  Tolstoy's  picture  of 
the  disease  of  society  and  his  remedy,  his  own  advice  to 
readers  will  be  followed,  that  "one  must  choose  out  the 
parts  that  are  quite  clear,  dividing  them  from  what  is 
obscure  or  confused.  And  from  what  is  clear  we  must 
form  our  idea  of  the  drift  and  spirit  of  the  whole  work.  "^ 
And  the  estimate  and  criticism  of  the  picture  and  remedy 
will  be  formed  with  that  other  injunction  of  Tolstoy  in 
mind,  that  the  reader  shall  not  accept  any  teaching  as 
infallible,  but  shall  first  refer  it  to  his  own  reason  and  con- 
science. Thus,  and  in  the  light  of  the  written  experience  of 
the  other  great  prophets,  the  true  may  be  separated  from 
the  false  and  the  great  teachings  stripped  of  their  several 
fallacies,  leaving  in  the  end  only  a  faithful  rendering  of 
that  part  of  Tolstoy's  creed  which  is  so  certainly  working 
toward  the  freedom  of  mankind. 

Tolstoy 's  immense  influence  arises  not  only  from  the  doc-  Sources  of 

.  .  .       Tolstoy's 

trines  he  preached,  but  from  his  volcanic  character,  and  his  influence 
ardent,  forceful  way  of  living,  and  most  especially  from 
his  sincere  and  heroic  attempt  to  practice  what  he  preached. 
The  continual  conflict  waged  in  his  soul  and  in  his  outer 
life,  and  the  direct  growth  of  his  books  out  of  that  struggle, 
preclude  the  possibility  of  understanding  his  views  or  of 
estimating  their  value  without  a  knowledge  of  his  spiritual 
and  physical  life.  A  condensed  biography  of  Tolstoy  will 
show  the  relation  of  WJiat  Is  To  Be  Done?  to  his  other 
works  and  to  his  own  spiritual  and  physical  growth. 

Count  Leo  Tolstoy  came  of  aristocratic  family,  both  his  Tolstoy's 
father  and  his  mother  bearing  titles.    The  family  was  com- 
fortably rich,  and  throughout  his  life  Tolstoy  was  well  pro- 
vided for,  if  not  abundantly  wealthy.     Every  circumstance 


1  Tolstov,  Essays  and  Letters,  translated  by  Aylmer  Maude   (New 
York,  Funk  and  Wagnalls,  1904),  p.  191. 


60  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

of  his  early  life  would  tend  to  lead  him  away  from  those 
convictions  which  grew  on  him  with  the  passing  years  and 
which  made  him  a  world-prophet  in  later  life.  Only  a 
tendency  to  religious  seclusion  among  certain  of  his  rela- 
tives gives  any  light  on  the  probable  trend  of  his  gro-wth. 
He  was  born  in  1828  at  Yasnaya  Polyana,  the  country  estate 
which  was  his  home  during  practically  his  entire  lifetime. 
His  mother  died  when  he  was  less  than  two  years  old,  and 
his  father  only  seven  years  later.  His  childhood  and  boy- 
hood, however,  were  passed  with  relatives,  in  an  atmosphere 
of  family  affection. 

As  a  boy  Tolstoy  was  sensitive,  imaginative  and  intro- 
spective. Although  generally  happy,  he  was  already 
troubled  by  the  problems  of  life.  At  one  period  he  flogged 
himself  because  he  had  discovered  that  one  accustomed  to 
bear  suffering  cannot  be  unhappy ;  again  he  sought  a  magic 
cure  which  was  to  purge  humanity  of  all  its  ills — a  quest 
which  he  followed  in  various  forms  throughout  life. 

As  a  youth  he  went  to  the  university  at  Kazan,  where 
his  brilliancy  in  some  subjects  was  offset  by  his  failure  in 
others.  Like  most  of  the  students  of  his  rank  he  periodic- 
ally lived  incontinently.  At  this  time,  though  shy  and 
sensitive  about  his  appearance,  he  went  into  society  a  great 
deal,  and  rigorously  observed  all  its  conventions.  At  nine- 
teen he  returned  to  Yasnaya  Polyana,  to  live  with  his  be- 
loved "Aunt  Tatiana,"  resolved  to  perfect  himself,  to 
study,  to  manage  his  estate,  and  to  improve  the  condition 
of  his  serfs.  For  some  years  his  time  alternated  between 
study  and  industry  and  the  pursuit  of  physical  pleasure. 
Hunting,  gambling,  a  fondness  for  gipsy-girl  singers,  and 
dissipation  of  all  kinds,  followed  each  time  by  the  extremest 
penitence,  interrupted  his  peaceful  country  life.  At  this 
period  one  sees  most  plainly  his  fierce  conflict  between  his 
love  of  pagan  pleasures  and  his  desire  for  Christian  moral 
truth.-    Already  he  was  a  restless,  strenuous,  self-torment- 


2  Cf.  J.  A.  T.  Lloyd,  Two  Eussian  Reformers:  Ivan  Turgenev;  Leo 
Tolstoy  (New  York,  Lane,  1911) ;  and  D.  Merejkowski,  Tolstoi  as  Man 
and  Artist  (London  &  New  York,  Putnam,  1902). 


1912]      Cheneij:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  61 

in*  man,  oppressed  by  the  sense  of  duty  and  of  the  obliga- 
tion to  bear  a  cross,  in  his  penitent  moods  intolerant  of  his 
own  faults  and  those  of  others,  a  man  who  was  to  live 
for  thirty  more  years  with  the  struggle  in  his  soul  before 
finding  the  faith  on  which  to  build  a  sane,  balanced  system 
of  life. 

In  1851,  when  he  was  twenty-three,  Tolstoy  joined  the 
army.  In  his  campaigns  in  the  Caucasus  and  in  the  Crimea 
during  the  following  years  he  saw  at  first  hand  those  crimes 
which  made  him  an  enemy  of  war  and  military  power 
throughout  his  life.  During  this  service  he  began  to  write, 
his  vivid  stories  and  war  sketches  placing  him  immediately 
among  the  most  popular  authors  of  the  day.  For  seven 
years  after  his  return  from  the  seat  of  war,  he  spent  his 
time  at  St.  Petersburg,  Moscow,  and  Yasnaya  Polyana, 
writing  much,  going  abroad  twice,  planning  and  conduct- 
ing a  school  on  new  principles,  helping  to  free  the  serfs, 
and  going  into  society.  Again  the  same  struggle  is  appar- 
ent in  his  life,  and  the  same  alternating  periods  of  dissi- 
pated pleasure  and  penitent  uprightness. 

In  1862,  at  the  age  of  thirty-four,  Tolstoy  married 
Sophie  Behrs,  an  accomplished  girl  of  eighteen.  The  event 
is  notable  as  the  first  great  turning-point  of  his  life. 
As  exhibiting  his  sincerity  and  conscientiousness,  it  is  in- 
teresting to  note  that  before  the  marriage  he  gave  to  his 
fiancee  the  diary  which  he  had  kept  for  years,  in  which  he 
had  recorded  all  his  excesses,  as  w^ell  as  his  periods  of  faith, 
of  doubt,  and  of  penitence.  This  self-revealment — so 
similar  to  that  which  later  startled  the  world^at  first 
shocked,  then  brought  forgiveness  and  respect  from  the 
future  wife.  For  the  follow^ing  fifteen  years  Tolstoy  led  a 
quiet  country  life,  happy  in  family  affairs,  in  the  produc- 
tion of  his  two  great  novels.  War  and  Peace  and  Anna 
Karenin,  and  in  the  management  of  his  estate.  Toward  the 
end  of  the  period  his  mind  was  increasingly  troubled  by 
the  question  of  the  true  aim  of  life,  and  by  the  economic 
injustice  that  surrounded  him.     His  own  autobiographical 


62  U7iiversity  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

summary  of  his  career  up  to  its  fiftieth  year  is  of  deep  sig- 
nificance, though  it  must  be  read  with  an  understanding 
of  Tolstoy's  habit  of  overstating:  "That  splendid — especial- 
ly in  comparison  with  what  comes  after — that  innocent, 
joyful,  poetic  period  of  childhood  up  to  fourteen;  then 
the  second,  those  dreadful  twenty  years,  the  period  of 
coarse  dissoluteness,  of  service  of  ambition  and  vanity,  and, 
above  all,  of  sensuousness ;  then  the  third  period  of  eighteen 
years,  from  my  marriage  until  my  spiritual  birth,  a  period 
which,  from  the  worldly  point  of  view  one  might  call  moral ; 
I  mean  that  during  those  eighteen  years  I  lived  a  regular 
honest  family  life,  without  addicting  myself  to  any  vices 
condemned  by  public  opinion,  but  a  period  all  the  inter- 
ests of  which  were  limited  to  egotistical  family  cares,  to 
concern  for  the  increase  of  wealth,  the  attainment  of  literary 
success,  and  the  enjoyment  of  every  kind  of  pleasure."^ 

In  1874  there  were  already  signs  of  the  coming  of  that 
''spiritual  birth"  which  was  inevitable  if  life  was  to  be 
tolerable  to  him.  Already  his  mind  was  torn  and  distracted. 
He  began  to  interview  those  religious  pilgrims  who  were 
continually  passing,  and  he  talked  to  the  priests  and  the 
peasants.  He  sought  patiently  in  every  field  of  human 
knowledge,  in  science,  in  religion,  in  philosophy,  for 
answers  to  his  questions:  "Why  should  I  live,  why  wish 
for  anything,  or  do  anything?  Is  there  any  meaning  in 
life  that  the  inevitable  death  awaiting  one  does  not 
destroy'?"*  As  his  perplexity  and  his  mental  suffering  in- 
creased, his  care  for  the  old  pleasures,  fame,  success,  riches, 
decreased,  and  gradually  the  foundations  of  his  old  life 
crumbled  from  under  him.  As  early  as  1875  Mihaylovsky 
published  a  series  of  articles  called  TJie  Bight  and  Left 
Hand  of  Count  Tolstoy,  which  revealed  "the  clash  of  con- 
trary ideals   and  tendencies   in  the  writer's  soul, "^   and 


3  P.  Birukoff,  Leo  Tolstoy:  His  Life  and  Work  (New  York, 
Scribner,  1906),  vol.  i,  p.  xxv. 

*  Cf.  Tolstoy,  My  Confession,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston, 
Estes,  1904),  p.  26. 

5  A.  Maude,  The  Life  of  Tolstoy  (New  York,  Dodd,  Mead  and  Co., 
1910),  i,  395. 


1912]      Cheiiey:  Tolstoij's"What  Is  ToBe  Donef"  63 

which  predicted  that  an  ordinary  man  in  such  a  position 
would  end  by  suicide  or  drunkenness. 

As  his  life  became  more  chaotic  and  the  inevitable  spir- 
itual crisis  neared,  Tolstoy  did  indeed  think  of  suicide,  and 
in  moments  of  clarity  he  put  away  from  reach  ropes  and 
guns  which  might  tempt  him  during  his  despairing  moods. 
The  first  ray  of  light  which  broke  into  his  distraction  came 
in  the  discovery  that  the  peasants  lived  normal,  rational 
lives,  bearing  troubles  patiently,  and  accepting  death  calmly, 
even  joyfully.  He  came  to  the  belief  that  the  wrong  lay 
entirely  in  the  way  of  life  of  his  own  class,  and  for  two 
years  he  faithfully  went  to  church  and  observed  all  its 
ceremonies,  hoping  to  build  a  new  life  on  the  faith  which 
brought  content  to  the  peasants.  Then  suddenly  he  broke 
away  from  the  church  for  all  time,  convinced  that  the 
peasant  belief  was  founded  not  on  true  faith  but  on 
credulity:  that  the  church  was  concerned  more  with  its 
superstitious  forms  than  with  the  teachings  of  Christ. 

Feverishly  he  set  to  work  to  apprehend  the  true  teach-  Tolstoy's 
ing  of  Christ;  and  therein  came  his  spiritual  crisis.  Sud-  spiritual 
denly  he  realized  the  emptiness  and  injustice  of  his  former 
life  and  was  able  to  formulate  an  outlook  on  his  future  life, 
a  plan  based  on  a  reasoning  faith.  In  My  Confession  he 
vividly  pictures  the  spiritual  struggle  of  the  years  1874- 
1879,  separates  the  false  faith  from  that  new  and  true  faith 
which  brings  a  sense  of  the  relation  between  the  finite  and 
the  infinite,  renounces  the  old  faith,  and  repudiates  the 
church  as  having  substituted  "  Churchianity  for  Christi- 
anity." There  is  as  yet  no  formulation  of  a  new  creed, 
but  a  promise  that  one  shall  follow. 

The  crisis,  however,  is  past.     Tolstoy  has  been  freed  The  New 
from  the  old  life  and  the  old  religion.     Standing  on  the  ^'"^"^ 
solid  foundation  of  a  direct  belief  in  the  relation  of  man 
to  God,  he  is  eager  to  take  up  the  great  problems  of  human 
thought  and  achievement  and  to  formulate  his  plans  of 
reform  in  the  light  of  that  faith. 

This  birth  into  a  new  life  brought  with  it  many  changes. 


64  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

Tolstoy  the  consummate  artist  became  Tolstoy  the  prophet. 
His  books  from  this  time  forward  all  have  the  same  power- 
ful art,  but  there  is  a  new  message  added.  He  wrote  not 
as  before  for  the  amusement  of  the  people  and  for  his  own 
honor,  but  for  the  good  of  mankind;  his  art  became  sub- 
ordinate to  his  message. 

Naturally  his  first  endeavor  was  in  the  field  of  religion 
and  ethics.  My  Confession  had  been  practically  finished  in 
1879  or  1880.  Immediately  he  set  to  work  on  his  Critique 
of  Dogmatic  Theology,  which  completed  the  work  of  ex- 
posing the  superstitions  and  dogmas  of  church  ceremony, 
and  pointing  out  how  far  worship  of  church  forms  had 
superseded  the  study  of  Christ's  doctrines.  He  searched 
the  Gospels  for  Christ's  true  teaching,  and  succeeded  in 
formulating  the  moral  and  spiritual  code  which  he  be- 
lieved would  establish  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 
This  code  is  to  be  found  in  his  books:  The  Four  Gospels 
Harmonized  and  Translated  (1880-82)  ;  The  Gospel  in  Brief 
(1883)  ;  and  My  Religion  (1883-84). 
Conception  of  While  hc  was  still  engaged  in  systematizing  and  setting 

Tr;ia«  Is  To  forth  the  new  religion,  he  came  face  to  face  with  the  prob- 
lem of  poverty,  and  that  incident  occurred  which  led  to 
the  writing  of  What  Is  To  Be  Donef,  a  book  which  attempts 
to  solve  the  economic  problem  in  the  light  of  the  new  code. 

In  September,  1881,  the  family  moved  to  Moscow  for 
the  winter  and  the  change  from  the  quiet  country  life  made 
Tolstoy  wretched.  In  November  he  wrote:  "I  lack  tran- 
quillity. I  am  oppressed  by  the  triumph  of  indifference  and 
conventionality,  and  the  customariness  of  evil  and  decep- 
tion. '  "^  The  shallow  life  of  the  rich  and  the  terrible  misery 
of  the  poor  horrified  him.  The  occasion  of  the  census  to  be 
taken  in  January,  1882,  by  which  he  would  be  able  to 
investigate  city  poverty,  led  him  to  formulate  a  direct 
charity  plan,  by  which  the  needy  were  to  be  enrolled  so 
that  a  charity  l)ureau  could  keep  in  touch  with  them  after 
the  census  work  was  finished.     Tolstov  threw  himself  into 


/((   Maude,  The  Life  of  Tolstoy,  ii,  97. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Donef"         65 

tlie  work  impetuously.  When  he  emerged  he  had  investi- 
gated the  poor,  and  had  found  poverty  and  \\Tetchedness 
in  more  terrible  aspects  than  he  had  dreamed  of.  The 
inadequacy  and  failure  of  his  direct  charity  plan  depressed 
him  less  than  the  existence  of  the  things  he  had  seen  side 
by  side  with  the  superfluity  of  wealth  and  leisure  of  his 
own  class. 

He  did  not  again  attack  the  problem  immediately.  His 
religious  books  were  not  yet  completed,  and  his  mind  was 
not  yet  clear  as  to  the  cure  for  economic  wrong.  In 
1883  he  started  What  Is  To  Be  Donef  and  for  more  than 
three  years  he  struggled  with  it.  During  that  time  he 
became  increasingly  dissatisfied  with  his  way  of  life,  and 
more  than  once  his  relations  with  his  very  family  were 
strained.  His  wants  became  simpler,  he  gave  up  indul- 
gences of  all  kinds,  and  he  became  more  and  more  a  saint, 
and  spiritually  stood  more  and  more  alone. 

We  may  picture  him  at  the  time  of  writing  What  Is  To 
Be  Donef  as  outwardly  a  great,  strong  man,  giving  an  im- 
pression of  massiveness,  his  face  strong-featured  and  sur- 
rounded b}'  long  shaggy  hair  and  beard,  his  little  bright 
eyes  gazing  out  with  infinite  penetration ;  inwardly  forceful, 
ardent  and  restless,  his  desire  militantly  to  spread  his  be- 
liefs struggling  with  his  desire  to  be  mild  and  gentle  with 
all,  caring  immensely  for  the  matter  of  the  moment,  going 
with  a  sublime  childish  directness  to  the  heart  of  the  ques- 
tion at  hand,  and  above  all,  sincere. 

It  is  sufficient  to  sum  up  the  remaining  twenty-five  years 
of  Tolstoy's  life,  in  so  far  as  they  affect  the  book  and  doc- 
trines under  discussion,  by  mentioning  his  increasing  effort 
to  live  up  to  those  ideals  of  conduct  set  forth  in  What  Is 
To  Be  Donef ;  the  continual  stream  of  stories,  dramas,  let- 
ters, and  essays,  including  his  writings  on  non-resistance, 
which  did  so  much  to  cloud  his  fame,  and  the  publication  of 
The  Slavery  of  Our  Time,  a  weaker  sequel  to  What  Is  To 
Be  Donef;  his  efforts  for  the  betterment  of  peasant  life, 
as  shown  especially  in  his  devoted  relief  work  in  the  famine 


66  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

districts ;  and  lastly  his  continual  persecution  by  the  censor 
and  the  church,  culminating  in  his  excommunication. 

The  influence  of  What  Is  To  Be  Donef  cannot  be  dis- 
sociated from  the  influence  of  Tolstoy's  other  books  and  of 
his  life  and  character.  But  it  is  the  one  work  that  specific- 
ally treats  of  the  economic  problem — the  reconstruction  of 
society  so  that  all  men  shall  have  justice — and  it  sums  up 
the  arguments  of  all  the  preceding  books.  Thus  it  offers 
the  student  an  opportunity  to  judge  of  Tolstoy's  entire 
influence  on  the  social  movement,  and  to  estimate  his  worth 
as  an  inspiration  and  guide  to  economic  reformers  and 
humanitarians. 

Of  the  following  three  chapters  the  first  will  set  forth 
Tolstoy's  picture  of  misery  as  he  found  it  in  Moscow  in 
the  census  year,  and  the  contrasting  luxurious  life;  the 
second,  his  deductions  and  diagnosis  of  the  trouble;  the 
third,  his  suggested  remedy.  In  these  chapters  4t  ds 
necessary  to  condense  and  to  interpret,  and  above  all  to 
reduce  to  system  that  line  of  argument  which  winds  through 
so  many  chapters  of  the  original  work.  The  last  three  chap- 
ters will  be  discussions  of  the  picture,  diagnosis,  and 
remedy,  considering  their  influence  on  social  reform  up 
to  this  time,  and  their  value  as  a  basis  for  future  con- 
structive work. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoij's" What  Is  To  Be  Done?"         67 


CHAPTER  II 


TOLSTOY'S   PICTURE   OF  A  DISEASED   SOCIETY 

The  story  of  Tolstoy's  effort  to  relieve  the  misery  that 
so  distressed  him  when  he  came  to  Moscow  in  1881,  and 
the  aecompan^ung  picture  of  poverty  and  vice  side  by  side 
Avith  luxury  and  wealth,  form  thirteen  of  the  forty  chap- 
ters of  What  Is  To  Be  Donef  Taking  only  the  material  of 
his  actual  experience,  Tolstoy  brought  to  bear  all  of  his 
wonderful  descriptive  power. 

Tolstoy  went  on  a  cold,  windy  afternoon  in  December 
to  the  Liapin  free  night  lodging-house,  where  he  took  his 
place  among  the  men  and  women  who  were  standing  or 
sitting  in  the  snow  waiting  to  be  let  in : 

Next  to  me  stood  a  peasant  with  a  swollen  face  and  red  beard,   Description  of 
in  a  ragged  jacket,  and  worn-out  galoshes  on  his  naked  feet,  though   city  Poverty 
there  were  eight  degrees  of  frost.     For  the  third  or  fourth  time  our 
eyes  met;  and  I  felt  so  drawn  to  him  that  I  was  no  longer  ashamed 
to  address  him    (to  have  refrained  from  doing  so  would  have  been 
the  only  real  shame),  and  asked  him  where  he  came  from. 

He  answered  eagerly,  while  a  crowd  began  to  collect  round  us, 
that  he  had  come  from  Smolensk  in  search  of  work,  in  order  to  be 
able  to  buy  bread  and  pay  his  taxes. 

"There  is  no  work  to  be  had  nowadays,"  he  said;  "the  soldiers 
have  got  hold  of  it  all.  So  here  am  I  knocking  about ;  and  God 
is  my  witness,  I  have  not  had  anything  to  eat  for  two  days. ' ' 

He  said  this  shyly,  with  an  attempt  at  a  smile.  A  seller  of 
warm  drinks,  an  old  soldier,  was  standing  near.  I  called  him,  and 
made  him  pour  out  a  glass  for  him.  The  peasant  took  the  warm 
vessel  in  his  hands,  and,  before  drinking,  warmed  them  against  the 
glass,  trying  not  to  lose  any  of  the  precious  heat;  and  whilst  doing 
this  he  related  to  me  his  story.  .  .  . 

Then  came  a  little  man,  with  a  swollen  face  and  teary  eyes,  in  a 
coarse  brown  jacket,  and  with  knees  protruding  through  his  torn 
trousers,   and  knocking   against   each   other   with   cold.      He   shivered 


68  University  of  California  Prize  Essaijs         [Vol.  l 

so  that  he  could  not  hold  the  glass,  and  spilled  the  contents  over 
his  clothes;  the  others  took  to  abusing  him,  but  he  only  grinned 
miserably  and  shivered. 

After  him  came  an  ugly,  deformed  man  in  rags,  and  with  bare 
feet.  Then  an  individual  of  the  officer  type;  another  belonging  to 
the  church  class;  then  a  strange  looking  being  without  a  nose — and 
all  of  them  cold,  suppliant,  and  humble — crowded  round  me,  and 
stretched  out  their  hands  for  the  glass;  but  the  drink  was  exhausted. 
...  I  entered  the  lodging-house  with  the  crowd.  The  house  was 
enormous,  and  consisted  of  four  parts.  In  the  upper  stories  were 
the  men 's  rooms ;  on  the  ground  floor  the  women 's.  I  went  first 
into  the  women 's  dormitory — a  large  room,  filled  with  beds  resem- 
bling the  berths  in  a  third-class  railway-carriage.  They  were  arranged 
in  two  tiers,  one  above  the  other. 

Strange-looking  women  in  ragged  dresses,  without  jackets,  old 
and  young,  kept  coming  in  and  occupying  places,  some  below,  others 
climbing  above.  Some  of  the  elder  ones  crossed  themselves,  pro- 
nouncing the  name  of  the  founder  of  the  refuge.  Some  laughed 
and  swore.  7 

When  Tolstoy,  sickened  by  his  new  knowledge  of  the 
poverty  of  Moscow,  and  by  his  own  luxurious  surroundings, 
applied  for  a  position  among  the  census-takers,  he  was 
immediately  assigned  to  one  of  the  poorest  districts : 

Center   of  ....  I  soon  found  the  Rzhanoff  Houses — approached  by  a  street 

Poverty  which  terminated  on  the  left-hand  side  of  a  gloomy  building  without 

any  apparent  entrance.  From  the  aspect  of  this  house,  I  guessed 
it  was  the  one  I  was  in  search  of.  .  .  .  Everything  was  gray,  dirty, 
and  foul-smelling — buildings,  lodgings,  courts  and  people.  Most  of 
those  I  met  here  were  in  tattered  clothes,  half-naked.  Some  were 
passing  along,  others  were  running  from  one  door  to  another.  Two 
were  bargaining  about  some  rags.  .  .  .  After  a  little  hesitation,  I 
went  in.  The  moment  I  entered  the  court,  I  was  conscious  of  a  most 
revolting  odor.  The  court  was  dreadfully  dirty.  I  turned  round  the 
corner,  and  at  the  same  instant  heard  the  steps  of  people  running 
along  the  boards  of  the  gallery  and  thence  down  the  stairs. 

First  a  gaunt-looking  woman,  with  tucked-up  sleeves,  faded  prink 
dress,  and  shoes  on  her  stockingless  feet,  rushed  out;  after  her, 
a  rough-haired  man  in  a  red  shirt  and  extremely  wide  trousers,  like 


7  Tolstoy,  What  /.s  To  Be  Bone?,  translated  by  I.  F.  Hapgood 
(New  York,  Scribner,  1904),  pp.  10-13;  cf.  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?, 
translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1904),  pp.  11-14. 


1912]      Chpney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Donef"  69 

;i  petticoat,  and  with  galoshes  on  his  feet.     The  man  caught  her  under 
the  stairs,  "You  shan't  escape  me,"  he  said,  laughing. 

* '  Just  listen  to  the  squint-eyed  devil !  ' '  began  the  woman,  who  Extent  of  the 
was  evidently  not  averse  to  his  attentions;  but,  having  caught  sight  Problem 
of  me,  she  exclaimed  angrily,  "Who  are  you  looking  for?"  As  I 
did  not  want  anyone  in  particular,  I  felt  somewhat  confused,  and 
went  away.  ...  I  now  realized  for  the  first  time,  that  all  these 
poor  unfortunates,  whom  I  had  been  wishing  to  help,  had,  besides 
the  time  they  spent  suffering  from  cold  and  hunger,  in  waiting  to 
get  a  lodging,  several  hours  daily  to  get  through,  and  they  must 
somehow  fill  the  rest  of  the  twenty-four  of  every  day — a  whole  life, 
of  which  I  had  never  thought  before.  .  .  .  And  now  for  the  first 
time  (however  strange  the  confession  may  sound),  I  was  fully  aware 
that  the  task  which  I  was  undertaking  could  not  simply  consist  in  feed- 
ing a  thousand  people  (just  as  one  might  feed  a  thousand  head  of  sheep, 
and  drive  them  into  shelter),  but  must  develop  some  more  essential 
help.  And  when  I  considered  that  each  one  of  these  individuals  was 
just  another  man  as  myself,  possessing  also  a  past  history,  with 
the  same  passions,  temptations,  and  errors,  the  same  thoughts,  the 
same  questions  to  be  answered,  then  suddenly  the  work  before  me 
appeared  stupenaous,  and  I  felt  my  own  utter  helplessness; — but  it 
had  been  begun,  and  I  was  resolved  to  continue  it.s 


These   unfortunate  people  ranged   themselves   in   my   mind   under    Kinds  of 
three  heads:  first,  those  who  had  lost  former  advantageous  positions.    Unfortunates 
and  who  were  waiting  toi  return  to  them    (such  men  belong  to  the 
lowest  as  well  as  to  the  highest  classes  of  society)  ;  secondly,  women 
of  the  town,   who  are   very  numerous   in  these  houses;   and  thirdly, 
children.  .  .  . 

Many  such  people  [of  the  first  class]  are  scattered  about  in  all 
the  tenements  of  the  Rzhanoff  Houses.  One  lodging-house  was 
tenanted  exclusively  by  them,  women  and  men.  As  we  approached 
them,  Ivan  Fedotitch  said: 

' '  Now  here 's  where  the  nobility  live. ' ' 

The  lodging  was  full;  almost  all  the  lodgers — about  forty  per- 
sons— were  at  home.  In  the  whole  house  there  were  uo  faces  so 
ruined  and  degraded  as  these — the  old,  shriveled ;  the  young,  pale 
and  haggard. 

I  talked  with  several  of  them.  Almost  always  the  same  story 
was  told,  only  in  different  degrees  of  development.  One  and  all  had 
been  once  rich,  or  had  still  a  rich  father  or  brother  or  uncle;  or 
either  his  father  or  the  unfortunate  himself  had  held  a  high  ofl5ce. 
Then  came  some  misfortune  caused   by  envious  enemies   or  his  own 


8  Ibid.,  pp.  21-4  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  24-7). 


70  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

imprudent  kindness,  or  some  out-of-the-way  occurrence;  and  having 
lost  everything,  he  was  obliged  to  descend  to  these  strange  and 
hateful  surroundings,  among  lice  and  rags,  in  company  with  drunk- 
ards and  loose  characters,  feeding  upon  bread  and  liver,  and  sub- 
sisting by  beggary.9 

The  second  class  of  unfortunates,  whom  I  hoped  afterward  to 
be  able  to  help,  were  women  of  the  town.  Such  women  were  very 
numerous  in  the  Ezhanoff  Houses;  and  they  were  of  every  kind,  from 
young  girls  still  bearing  some  likeness  to  women,  to  old  and  fearful- 
looking  creatures  without  a  vestige  of  humanity. lo 

Tolstoy's  sympathy  and  his  feeling  of  helplessness  are 
exhibited  in  his  description  of  an  interview  with  one  of 
these  prostitutes  and  her  landlord,  and  especially  in  this 
sequel : 

....  I  was  disgusted  by  the  disdainful  tone  of  this  young  land- 
lord, in  a  lodging  filled  with  females  whom  he  termed  prostitutes; 
and  I  pitied  the  woman,  and  expressed  both  feelings. 

No  sooner  had  I  said  this,  than  I  heard  from  the  small  compart- 
ment where  the  giggling  had  been,  the  noise  of  creaking  bed- 
boards;  and  over  the  partition,  which  did  not  reach  to  the  ceiling, 
appeared  the  disheveled  curly  head  of  a  female  with  small  swollen 
eyes  and  a  shining  red  face;  a  second  and  then  a  third  head  fol- 
lowed. They  were  evidently  standing  on  their  beds;  and  all  three 
were  stretching  their  necks  and  holding  their  breath,  and  looking 
silently  at  me  with  strained  attention. 

A  painful  silence   followed. 

The  student,  who  had  been  smiling  before  this  happened,  now 
became  grave;  the  landlord  became  confused,  and  cast  down  his  eyes; 
and  the  women  continued  to  look  at  me  in  expectation. 

I  felt  more  disconcerted  than  all  the  rest.  I  had  certainly  not 
expected  that  a  casual  word  would  produce  such  an  effect.  It  was 
like  the  field  of  battle  covered  with  dead  bones  seen  by  the  prophet 
Ezekiel,  on  which,  trembling  from  contact  with  the  spirit,  the  dead 
bones  began  to  move.  I  had  casually  uttered  a  word  of  love  and 
pity,  which  produced  upon  all  such  an  effect  that  it  seemed  as  if  they 
had  been  only  waiting  for  it,  to  cease  to  be  corpses,  and  to  become 
alive  again. 

They  continued  to  look  at  me,  as  if  wondering  what  would  come 
next,   as  if   waiting   for   me   to   say   those   words   and   do   those   acts 


9  What  Is  To  Be  Done/  pp.  31-3  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  37-8). 
^0  Ibid.,  p.  35  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  41). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Donef"         71 

by  which  these  dry  bones  would  begin  to  come  together — be  covered 
with  flesh  and  receive  life. 

But  I  felt,  alas!  that  I  had  no  such  words  or  deeds  to  give,  or 
to  continue  as  I  had  begun.  In  the  depth  of  my  soul  I  felt  that 
I  had  told  a  lie,  that  I  myself  was  like  them,  that  I  had  nothing 
more  to  say;  and  I  began  to  write  down  on  the  domiciliary  card  the 
names  and  the  occupations  of  all  the  lodgers  there,  "n 

Tolstoy's  last  visit  to  the  Rzhanoff  Houses  was  made 
at  night: 

We  entered  lodgings  well  known  to  me.  The  place  was  familiar, 
some  of  the  persons  also;  but  the  majority  were  new  to  me,  and  ^-,j.  po^g^^^y 
the  spectacle  was  also  a  new  and  dreadful  one — still  more  dreadful 
than  that  which  I  had  seen  at  Liapin's  house.  All  the  lodgings  were 
filled,  all  the  pallets  occupied,  and  not  only  by  one,  but  often  by 
two  persons.  The  sight  was  dreadful,  because  of  the  closeness  with 
which  these  people  were  huddled  together,  and  because  of  the  indis- 
criminate commingling  of  men  and  women.  Such  of  the  latter  as 
were  not  dead  drunk  were  sleeping  with  men.  Many  women  with 
children  slept  with  strange  men  on  narrow  beds. 

The  spectacle  was  dreadful,  owing  to  the  misery,  dirt,  raggedness, 
and  terror  of  these  people;  and  chiefly  so,  because  there  were  so 
many  of  them.  One  lodging,  then  another,  then  a  third,  a  tenth, 
a  twentieth,  and  so  on,  without  end.  And  everywhere  the  same  fear- 
ful stench,  the  same  suffocating  exhalation,  the  same  confusion  of 
sexes,  men  and  women,  drunk,  or  in  a  state  of  insensibility;  the 
same  terror,  submissiveness,  and  guilt  stamped  on  all  the  faces,  so  that 
I  felt  deeply  ashamed  and  grieved,  as  I  had  before  at  Liapin's.  At 
last  I  understood  that  what  I  was  about  to  do  was  disgusting,  foolish, 
and  therefore  impossible;  so  I  left  off  writing  down  their  names 
and  questioning  them,  knowing  now  that  nothing  would  come  of  it.12 

Tolstoy  describes  the  life  of  factory  workers  in  this  way : 

....  At  the  first  whistle  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  men  and    Ljfg  ^f 
women,  who  have  slept  side  by  side  in  a  damp  cellar,  get  up  in  the   Factory 
dark,  and  hurry  away  into  the  noisy  building,  and  take  their  part   Workers 
in  a  work  of  which  they  see  neither  cessation  nor  utility  for  them- 
selves, and  work  often  so  in  the  heat,  in  suffocating  exhalations,  with 
very  rare  intervals  of  rest,  for  one,  two,  or  three,  or  even  twelve  and 
more  hours.     They  fall  asleep,  and  get  up  again,  and  again  do  this 


1^  Ibid.,  p.  49  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  56-7). 
'^~  Ibid.,  p.  49  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  56-7). 


72  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

work,  meaningless  for  themselves,  to  which  they  are  compelled  ex- 
clusively by  want.  And  so  it  goes  on  from  one  week  to  another, 
interrupted  only  by  holidays. 

And  now  I  saw  these  working-people  freed  for  one  of  these 
holidays.  They  go  out  into  the  street ;  everywhere  there  are  inns, 
public  houses,  and  gay  women.  And  they,  in  a  drunken  state,  pull 
each  other  by  the  arms,  and  carry  along  with  them  girls  like  the 
one  whom  I  saw  conducted  to  the  police  station;  they  hire  hackney- 
coaches,  and  ride  and  walk  from  one  inn  to  another,  and  abuse  each 
other,  and  totter  about,  and  say  they  know  not  what. 

Formerly,  when  I  saw  the  factory  people  knocking  about  in  this 
"way,  I  used  to  turn  aside  with  disgust,  and  almost  reproached  them ; 
but  since  I  hear  these  daily  whistles,  and  know  what  they  mean,  I 
am  only  astonished  that  all  these  men  do  not  come  into  the  condition 
of  utter  beggars,  with  whom  Moscow  is  filled;  and  the  women  into 
the  position  of  the  girl  whom  I  had  met  near  my  house. 

Thus  I  walked  on,  looking  at  these  men,  observing  how  they  went 
about  the  streets  till  eleven  o'clock.  Then  their  movements  became 
quieter;  there  remained  here  and  there  a  few  tipsy  people,  and  I 
met  some  men  and  women  who  were  being  conducted  to  the  police 
station.  And  now,  from  every  side  carriages  appeared,  all  going 
in  one  direction.  On  the  coach-box  sat  a  coachman,  sometimes  in 
a  sheepskin  coat ;  and  a  footman — a  dandy  with  a  cockade.  Well-fed 
trotters,  covered  with  cloth,  ran  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  mUes  an  hour; 
in  the  carriages  sat  ladies  wrapped  in  shawls,  and  taking  great  care 
not  to  spoil  their  flowers  and  their  toilets.  All,  beginning  with  the 
harness  of  the  horses,  carriages,  gutta-percha  wheels,  the  cloth  of 
the  coachman's  coat,  down  to  the  stockings,  shoes,  flowers,  velvet, 
gloves,  scents — all  these  articles  have  been  made  by  those  men,  some 
of  whom  fell  asleep  on  their  own  pallets  in  their  mean  rooms,  some 
in  night-houses  with  prostitutes,  and  others  in  the  police  station. 

The  ball-goers  drive  past  these  men,  in  and  with  things  made 
by  them;  and  it  does  not  even  enter  into  their  minds  that  there 
could  possibly  be  any  connection  between  the  ball  they  are  going  to 
and  these  tipsy  people,  to  whom  their  coachmen  shout  out  so  angrily. 
With  quite  easy  minds,  and  assurance  that  they  are  doing  nothing 
wrong,  they  enjoy  themselves  at  the  ball. 

Enjoy  themselves! 

From  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  six  in  the  morning,  in  the 
very  depth  of  the  night,  while  with  empty  stomachs  men  are  lying 
in  the  night-lodgings,  or  dying  as  the  washerwoman  had  done!  i3 


13  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  150-2  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  182-3). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Bone?"  73 

The  remaining  descriptive  portions  of  the  book  treat  of  country 
a  woman  and  girl  who  "scarcely  earn  their  living  by  trans-  P°^^'ty 
forming  themselves  into  machines,  and  pass  all  their  lives 
in  breathing  tobacco,  thus  ruining  their  lives,""  in  order 
that  one  of  Tolstoy's  acquaintances  may  smoke  cigarettes; 
and  of  country  poverty,  in  \s'hich  peasants  continually  work 
beyond  their  strength,  not  only  strong  men  and  women,  but 
children,  and  old  women,  and  women  with  child.  And 
through  it  all  runs  that  contrasting  accompaniment,  the 
picture  of  the  "incessant  orgies"  of  the  rich. 

This  is  only  a  glimpse  of  the  society  which  Tolstoy 
pictures  so  fully  and  so  realistically  in  his  book.  But  it 
serves  to  show  the  outer  indications,  the  symptoms  of  dis- 
ease. It  is  time  to  turn,  then,  to  the  diagnosis,  and  after 
that  to  the  remedy. 


11  Ibid.,  p.  155  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  186). 


74  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 


CHAPTER  III 

t 

TOLSTOY'S  DIAGNOSIS 

After  his  first  visits  to  the  lodgings  of  the  poor,  Tolstoy 
jumped  at  a  cure  for  the  poverty  and  vice  he  had  encoun- 
tered, without  any  adequate  knowledge  of  the  problem  ht 
was  attacking,  and  without  any  attempt  at  diagnosis  of 
the  disease.  He  accepted  the  external  direct  charity  plan 
as  a  cure-all  for  whatever  might  ail  humanity.  The  story 
of  his  utter  failure  is  bound  up  with  the  story  of  the  census 
investigation.  When  he  had  failed,  and  when  he  had  found 
the  disease  so  much  more  terrible  than  he  had  anticipated, 
he  did  attempt  to  diagnose  the  trouble ;  and  for  three  years 
he  struggled  with  the  question,  before  he  came  to  any  con- 
clusion which  seemed  to  point  the  way  to  a  cure. 
First  During  the  census  investigation,  however,  he  had  learned 

Conclusions       £q^j.  ^ruths,  which  cleared  his  mind  of  certain  fallacies  that 
prevent  men  from  seeing  the  problem  rightly. 

First,  he  had  concluded  that  he  could  not  justly  live  in 
luxury  while  such  conditions  existed  among  other  human 
beings : 

Similar  convictions  were  now  again  forced  upon  me  when  I  beheld 
the  misery,  cold,  hunger,  and  humiliation  of  thousands  of  my  fellow- 
men.  I  realized  not  only  with  my  brain,  but  in  every  pulse  of  my 
soul,  that,  whilst  there  were  thousands  of  such  sufferers  in 
Moscow,  I,  with  tens  of  thousands  of  others,  filled  myself  daily 
to  repletion  with  luxurious  dainties  of  every  description,  took  the 
tenderest  care  of  my  horses,  and  clothed  my  very  floors  with  velvet 
carpets!  Whatever  the  wise  and  learned  of  the  world  might  say 
about  it,  however  unalterable  the  course  of  life  might  seem  to  be, 
the  same  evil  was  continually  being  enacted,  and  I,  by  my  own  per- 
sonal habits  of  luxury,  was  a  promoter  of  that  evil. is 


15  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  14,  15  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  15). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"         75 

Second,  he  had  recognized  that  direct  charity,  no  mat-  Direct  charity 
ter  how  well  organized,  cannot  create  more  than  tiny  islands 
of  relief  in  the  great  sea  of  human  misery.  However  much 
money  is  given  in  help,  the  sea  remains  just  as  wide  and  deep 
— the  masses  are  still  poor.  He  had  found  that  when  he  gave 
money  openly  it  degraded  those  who  begged  it,  and  all  that 
he  distributed  went  to  the  tavern  in  the  end.  The  only  help, 
he  concluded,  is  in  giving  time  and  care  to  the  needy,  in 
the  way  that  these  poverty-stricken  people  help  each  other. 

Third,  he  had  found  that  the  great  need  of  these  unfor-  False  Concep- 
tunates  is  not  something  external,  but  a  change  in  their  own  *'°°^  °^  ^'^® 
conception  of  life ;  and  fourth,  he  had  found  that  the  people 
of  his  own  circle  could  not  teach  the  true  conception  of  life, 
because  their  own  conception  is  exactly  that  of  the  unfor- 
tunates. The  wish  of  both  classes  is  to  work  less  and  to  be 
worked  for  more.  For,  Tolstoy  points  out,  the  unfor- 
tunates have  come  to  their  present  condition  because  they 
were  taught  to  believe  that  the  best  existence  is  that  with- 
out work;  and  furthermore,  such  of  them  as  are  gaining 
a  dishonorable  living  without  labor,  as  the  prostitutes,  con- 
sider honest  labor  with  the  hands  below  them.  But,  he  adds, 
when  he  looked  among  the  ladies  of  his  own  rank  for  some 
who  might  aid  the  poor  prostitutes,  he  concluded  that  these 
ladies  ' '  were  not  only  themselves  avoiding  family  duties  and 
leading  idle  and  sensual  lives,  but  were  consciously  educat- 
ing their  daughters  for  this  very  same  mode  of  existence. 
One  mother  leads  her  daughter  to  the  inn,  and  another  to 
court  and  to  balls.  But  the  views  of  the  world  held  by 
both  mothers  are  the  same,  viz.,  that  a  woman  must  gratify 
the  lusts  of  men,  and  for  that  she  must  be  fed,  dressed,  and 
taken  care  of.  How,  then,  are  our  ladies  to  reform  this 
woman  and  her  daughter?"^® 

Tolstoy,  then,  had  come  to  these  four  conclusions  during 
his  investigation:  that  he  could  not  live  luxuriously  while 
such  things  existed ;  that  direct  charity  is  a  failure ;  that  the 
unfortunates  must  change  their  conception  of  life ;  and  that 


le/biV/.,  p.  41  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  47). 


76  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

the  rich  cannot  help  to  change  that  false  conception  because 
their  own  is  the  same.    He  had  not  made  a  diagnosis  of  the 
disease,  but  he  had  cleared  his  mind  of  certain  false  stand- 
ards accepted  by  the  world- 
He  struggled  with  the  problem  for  three  years  (he  was 

True  Purpose  °'^^  .... 

of  Life  at  the  same  time  formulating  his  religious  system),  and  at 

the  end  of  that  period  he  evolved  that  basic  principle  which 
is  at  the  foundation  of  his  entire  moral  and  social  code 
that  "human  life  ....  has  no  other  object  than  to  eluci- 
date moral  truths  ....  [and  that]  this  [elucidation]  is  not 
only  the  chief,  but  ought  to  be  the  sole,  business  of  all  men. '  '^^ 
Each  individual,  Tolstoy  has  concluded,  in  order  to  fulfill  the 
purpose  of  life,  must  conduct  himself  according  to  those 
principles  or  laws  which  universal  experience  has  shown  to 
be  necessary  to  the  welfare  of  humanity.  Each  man  must 
live  his  life  only  for  good  and  right,  for  the  well-being  of 
all  men. 

Some  commentators  see  in  this  conclusion  Tolstoy's  sec- 
ond spiritual  rebirth.  Certainly  that  spiritual  crisis  which 
came  with  the  writing  of  My  Confession,  bringing  faith  in 
the  relation  of  man  to  the  infinite  and  belief  that  the  true 
teaching  was  in  the  unobscured  gospels,  had  not  brought 
a  perpetual  peace  to  Tolstoy's  soul.  In  the  three  troubled 
years  after  the  LIoscow  census,  when  he  could  not  bring 
his  new  faith  to  shed  any  light  on  the  terrible  problem  of 
poverty,  doubt  again  had  assailed  him,  and  his  mind  had 
reverted  to  the  chaos  of  the  years  before  the  Confession. 
But  now  again  he  felt  that  he  had  found  a  sound  basis 
from  which  to  work,  in  this  principle  of  the  elucidation 
of  moral  truths.  In  its  light  he  began  once  more  a  diagnosis 
of  the  disease  of  society.  Feeling  now  that  life  had  a 
meaning  and  justice  for  everyone  if  rightly  lived,  he  in- 
quired why  the  lives  about  him  were  so  abnormal.  AYhere 
had  humanity  gone  astray,  and  under  what  conditions  had 
men  so  easily  forgotten  the  basic  truth — in  short,  what  was 
the  root  of  misery? 


IT  fVhat  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  56-7  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  66-7). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"         77 

The  quest  of  the  root  of  misery  led  to  an  investigation 
of  the  nature  and  uses  of  monej^  and  to  a  sarcastic  and 
merciless  arraignment  of  political  economy.  Tolstoy's 
analysis  and  argument  fill  many  chapters,  but  here  the 
entire  thought  may  be  summed  up  in  a  single  paragraph. 

Science  says  that  money  is  the  natural  result  of  the  why  there 
conditions  of  social  life,  and  is  indispensable,  first,  for  con-  '^  Poverty 
venience  of  exchange ;  second,  as  a  measure  of  value ;  third, 
for  saving;  and  fourth,  for  payments.  Money,  Tolstoy  adds, 
only  represents  labor:  all  the  necessaries  of  life,  food, 
clothing,  and  shelter,  are  products  of  labor.  But  two  of 
the  necessary  agents  of  production,  land  and  capital  (the 
savings  of  labor  and  instruments  of  labor),  have  passed 
out  of  the  laborer's  hands  and  are  monopolized  elsewhere. 
Through  this  division  of  the  agents  of  production  the  masses 
of  men  have  been  enslaved.  Science  claims  that  the  whole 
cause  of  this  slavery  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  laborer  under 
this  division  is  not  getting  the  full  value  of  his  labor.  But, 
Tolstoy  replies,  in  an  ideal  state  there  would  be  no  division 
of  agents  at  all ;  and  furthermore  the  very  nature  of  money 
is  to  enslave.  Under  the  present  economic  system,  govern- 
ments, backing  their  demands  for  payments  with  violence, 
have  made  money  no  longer  a  medium  of  exchange  but  a 
ransom  from  violence.  In  order  to  save  himself  from  that 
threatened  violence  on  which  the  power  of  all  governments 
rests,  the  laborer  must  enslave  himself  to  others ;  and  this 
is  true  whether  the  demanded  payment  is  for  government 
taxes  or  for  food  and  shelter.  Money  would  be  an  inoffen- 
sive medium  of  exchange  only  if  violence  were  not  used. 
Under  the  present  dual  burden  of  government  taxation 
based  on  violence  and  land  monopolization,  the  laborer  has 
been  enslaved,  and  the  ruling  power  of  the  world  has  be- 
come vested  in  a  money  tyranny.  For  ''a  man  who  has 
money  may  buy  up  and  monopolize  all  the  corn,  and  kill 
others  with  starvation,  completely  oppressing  them,  as  it 
has  frequently  happened  before  our  own  eyes  on  a  very 


78  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 

large  scale.  "^^  Under  this  tyranny  it  is  clear  that  money 
has  ceased  to  be  a  medium  of  exchange,  and  similarly  it 
has  ceased  to  be  a  measure  of  value  because  every  standard 
of  value  is  dictated  by  the  tyrant.  Under  this  money 
tyranny  a  slavery  exists  that  is  more  terrible  than  the 
old-time  personal  bondage. 

Money,  then,  in  its  present  way  of  use,  is  the  root  of 
misery.  It  has  created  wrong  ethical  standards  and  false 
ideals.  ''The  very  ideal  of  the  men  of  our  Christian,  cul- 
tured world  is  to  get  the  largest  amount  of  property — that 
is,  wealth — which  secures  all  comforts  and  idleness  of  life 
by  freeing  its  possessors  from  the  struggle  for  existence, 
and  enabling  them,  as  much  as  possible,  to  profit  by  the 
labor  of  those  brothers  of  theirs  who  perish  in  the 
struggle. '  '^^  With  the  growth  of  this  false  ideal  of  wealth 
and  idleness,  there  has  grown  up  a  false  division  of  labor, 
in  which  the  followers  of  the  arts  and  sciences  have  become 
mere  parasites. 
Why  Misery  is  Tolstoy  fiuds  the  reason  for  the  concentration  of  misery 

Concentrated  jj^  ^.j^g  cities  in  the  fact  that  the  rich  naturally  gather  in 
the  cities,  because  there  luxury  is  more  refined  and  they 
may  the  better  gratify  their  vanity.  Although  the  coun- 
try is  the  source  of  all  wealth,  the  rich,  by  the  evil  power 
of  money,  draw  to  the  cities  most  of  the  products  of  the 
country,  taking  away  from  the  country  producer  the  prop- 
erty which  is  the  result  of  his  labor.  A  great  many  country 
people,  seeing  the  concentration  of  wealth  in  the  cities,  go 
there  hoping  to  get  back  something  of  what  they  have  lost, 
and  drawn  also  by  the  temptations  of  town  life  and  by  the 
"ceaseless  orgies"  of  the  rich.  "These  country  people 
assist  in  gratifying  all  the  fancies  of  the  wealthy:  they 
serve  them  in  public  baths,  in  taverns,  as  coachmen,  and 
as  prostitutes.  They  manufacture  carriages,  make  toys  and 
dresses,  and  little  by  little  learn  from  their  wealthy  neigh- 
bors how  to  live  like  them,  not  by  real  labor  but  by  all 


18  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  106-7  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  125). 
lo/b/c?.,  pp.  165-6   (tr,  Wiener,  p.  199). 


Who   is 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoxj's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  79 

sorts  of  tricks,  squeezing  out  from  others  the  money  they 
have  collected,  and  so  become  depraved,  and  are  ruined."^" 
A  few  of  these  people  amass  wealth  of  their  own  and  in  turn 
become  parasites;  but  the  majority  go  to  make  up  that 
population  of  the  slums  which  Tolstoy  desired  to  help. 

Understanding  now  the  nature  of  money,  and  why  "Mos- 
cow neither  sows  nor  reaps,  yet  lives  in  wealth,"  although 
only  in  the  country  a  man  can  truly  make  a  living,  that 
is,  produce  that  by  which  men  live,  Tolstoy  for  the  first 
time  understood  his  own  position  and  that  of  his  own  class 
and  of  the  poor.  Having  found  the  causes  of  the  disease 
he  was  now  able  for  the  first  time  rightly  to  place  the  blame. 

The  rich,  Tolstoy  concludes,  live  only  to  gratify  their 
desire  for  luxuries,  comforts  and  idleness,  enjoying  them-  to  Blame? 
selves  in  a  place  where  nothing  is  produced  and  everj'thing 
is  swallowed  up,  plundering  the  laborer  and  then  tempting 
him.  The  poor,  on  the  other  hand  (the  majority  of  people), 
labor  under  terrible  privations,  under  a  form  of  slavery 
imposed  by  those  who  own  the  money  and  the  land  and  con- 
trol the  government.  The  relation  between  the  rich  and 
poor  is  now  clear.  For  a  man  who  actually  produces  noth- 
ing and  only  swallows  up  what  is  produced  by  the  labor 
of  another,  clearly  increases  the  labor  of  that  other.  The 
two  conditions  are  inseparable  and  the  one  proceeds  from 
the  other.  The  wealth  of  the  rich  is  entirely  to  hlame  for 
the  poverty  of  the  poor.  Such  is  Tolstoy's  diagnosis  in 
its  simplest  statement. 

In  order  better  to  conceal  the  relation,  the  rich  have,  by 
their  wealth,  raised  a  barrier  of  education  between  them- 
selves and  the  poor.  Tolstoy  now  sees  that  this  barrier 
must  be  broken  down  if  the  rich  are  to  help  the  poor,  and 
that  the  rich  must  learn  to  produce.  "It  is  as  if  I  were 
sitting  on  the  neck  of  a  man,  and,  having  quite  crushed  him 
down,  I  compel  him  to  carry  me,  and  will  not  alight  off 
his  shoulders,  while  I  assure  myself  and  others  that  I  am 
ver}^  sorry  for  him,  and  wish  to  ease  his  condition  by  every 


20  Ibid.,  p.  62  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  74). 


80 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 


means  in  my  power  except  by  getting  off  his  back. '  '-^  The 
reason  why  his  charity  plan  had  not  helped  was  because 
he  was  really  only  drawing  bills  of  exchange  on  the  poor 
when  he  gave  to  the  poor.  He  had  been  taking  coins  away 
by  the  thousands  and  giving  them  singly.  The  true  remedy, 
he  concludes,  has  been  hidden  to  the  rich  by  that  barrier 
which  thej^  have  raised,  and  by  "the  dreadful  dark  of 
prejudice  in  which  we  live."  The  common  attitude  of 
apathy  and  fatalism  toward  the  problem  of  poverty  has 
been  fostered,  too,  by  the  position  of  the  church,  the  state, 
and  science  and  art,  which  accepted  the  false  division  of 
labor,  and  division  of  agents,  and  money  slavery,  as  inevit- 
able and  even  natural,  thus  separating  themselves  from 
the  service  of  the  people. 

Seeing  the  reasons  for  the  abnormal  condition  of  society, 
and  recognizing  that  condition  exactly  as  it  exists,  Tolstoy 
now  begins  to  see  the  answer  to  his  question,  "What  is 
to  be  done?"  So  far,  he  exclaims,  he  has  been  head  over 
heels  in  the  mud,  and  has  been  trying  to  drag  others  out 
of  it.  But  now,  having  diagnosed  the  trouble,  he  is  on  dry 
land  and  proceeds  sanely  to  his  remedy. 


Tolstoy's 

Social 

Ideal 


Throughout  Tolstoy's  long  investigation  of  the  causes 
of  misery,  glimpses  are  given  of  his  social  ideal.  Pieced 
into  a  whole,  these  disconnected  bits  picture  the  human  race 
living  in  a  peacefully  anarchistic  or  communistic  state, 
without  rich  or  poor,  each  man  being  credited  with  what 
he  produces,  and  debited  with  what  he  consumes,  and  each 
with  a  just  share  in  all  land  and  property.  There  is  to  be 
a  right  division  of  labor,  in  which  every  man  sacrifices  him- 
self to  that  work  which  is  for  the  good  of  all,  testing  the 
utility  of  that  work  solely  by  the  demand  for  it  by  other 
men.  Money  is  to  be  used,  if  at  all,  without  that  accom- 
paniment of  violence  which  makes  it  a  means  of  slavery. 
Government  is  not  to  be  tolerated,  and  religion,  science  and 


21  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  81   (tr.  "Wiener,  pp.  96-7). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Bone?"  81 

art  will  be  known  only  insofar  as  their  activities  are  con- 
cerned with  the  welfare  of  the  entire  race. 

With  this  picture  in  mind,  of  society  "in  health,"  it 
is  time  to  turn  to  Tolstoy 's  remedy :  to  see  how  he  proposes 
to  get  away  from  that  diseased  condition  which  he  has 
described  and  diagnosed,  and  to  rebuild  the  social  struc- 
ture according  to  the  ideal. 


82  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 


CHAPTER   rV 

TOLSTOY'S  SUGGESTED  REMEDY 

Tolstoy  does  not  offer  to  the  world  a  clear-cut  plan 
of  social  reconstruction.  With  an  instinctive  distrust  of 
organization  in  any  form,  he  bases  his  entire  remedy  for 
the  social  disease  on  individual  regeneration  as  opposed  to 
organized  relief.  He  answers  the  title-question,  "What  is 
to  be  done?,"  in  a  hundred  ways,  but  always  for  the  indi- 
vidual, seldom  even  hinting  at  a  plan  for  combined  effort. 

There  is  no  high  road  to  an  understanding  of  what 
Tolstoy  would  have  us  do.  The  answer  must  be  picked 
piecemeal  from  one  end  of  the  book  to  the  other.  He  sum- 
marizes parts  of  the  answer  in  several  places,  but  nowhere 
is  the  total  argument  summed  up.  In  this  interpretation 
the  answer  will  be  treated  in  arbitrary  groups.  For  to 
an  orderly  mind  the  message  cannot  but  come  more  for- 
cibly when  it  has  been  roughly  systematized.  The  answer 
is  here  divided  into:  (1)  foundation  tenets,  (2)  the  remedy 
as  it  concerns  man 's  struggle  for  existence  and  the  material 
welfare  of  the  race  (the  economic  answer,  in  a  narrow 
sense),  (3)  the  remedy  as  it  concerns  man's  intellectual 
development  (art  and  culture),  (4)  the  remedy  as  it  con- 
cerns man's  religious  and  ethical  life,  (5)  the  remedy  as 
it  concerns  the  state  and  government.  The  divisions  neces- 
sarily overlap  and  interweave,  but  the  general  classification 
covers  the  entire  field  of  Tolstoy's  teaching. 

1.  Foundation  The  ouc  great  foundation  tenet  of  Tolstoy's  message  is 
the  brotherhood  of  man.  To  love  and  help  others  as  your- 
self— that  is  the  underlying  basis  of  his  entire  system  of 
life.     It  is  at  the  bottom  of  his  religious  and  ethical  doc- 


1912]      Cheneij:  Tolstoy 's'' What  Is  To  Be  Done  f"  83 

trine,  and  of  his  economic  argument.  It  is  seldom  directly 
expressed  in  ^Yhat  Is  To  Be  Donef;  but  it  shines  out  by 
inference  and  suggestion  from  every  chapter.  Indeed  it 
is  the  passion  of  his  life,  which  dominates  every  one  of  his 
works :  the  love  of  others,  and  the  absolute  equality  of  men. 
With  this  teaching  in  mind,  we  may  turn  to  Tolstoy's 
answers  to  certain  aspects  of  the  question: 

These  are,  then,  the  answers  to  the  question  "What  is  to  be 
done?"  which  I  have  found  for  myself. 

First,  to  avoid  deceiving  myself.  However  far  I  may  have 
gone  astray  from  that  road  of  life  which  my  reason  shows  to  me, 
I  must  not  be  afraid  of  the  truth. 

Secondly,  to  renounce  my  own  righteousness,  my  own  advantages, 
peculiarities,  distinguishing  me  from  others,  and  to  confess  the 
guilt  of  such. 

Thirdly,  to  fulfill  that  eternal,  unquestionable  law  of  man — by 
laboring  with  all  my  being  to  struggle  with  nature,  to  sustain  my 
own  life,  and  the  lives  of  others. 22 

The  third  of  these  answers  is  the  summary  of  Tolstoy's 
economic  argument;  but  the  other  two  may  be  considered 
as  akin  to  the  foundation  principle  of  the  brotherhood  of 
man — being  necessary  preliminaries  to  the  other  aspects  of 
the  message. 

The  first  injunction,  to  avoid  deceit,  is  emphasized  by 
Tolstoy  several  times:  "We  must  neither  deceive  ourselves 
nor  others.  We  must  not  be  afraid  of  the  truth,  whatever 
the  result  may  be. "-^  And  again:  "  ....  Not  to  invent 
excuses,  and  not  to  accept  excuses  invented  by  others,  in 
order  to  hide  from  one's  self  the  deduction  of  reason  and 
conscience;  not  to  be  afraid  of  contradicting  all  our  en- 
vironment, and  of  being  left  alone  with  reason  and  con- 
science; not  to  be  afraid  of  that  condition  to  which  truth 
and  conscience  lead  us;  however  dreadful  it  may  be,  it 
cannot  be  worse  than  that  which  is  based  on  deceit. '  '^* 


22  Bhat  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  260   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  311). 
^3  Ibid.,  p.  241   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  290). 
2ilhid.,  pp.  241-2  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  291). 


84 


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When  we  have  gotten  away  from  deceit,  when  we  stand 
face  to  face  with  the  truth,  then  we  must  obey  the  second 
injunction:  repent.  "Renounce  my  own  righteousness,  my 
own  advantages,  peculiarities  ....  and  confess  the  guilt 
of  such."  "Instead  of  considering  ourselves  educated,  we 
must  get  to  see  our  ignorance ;  instead  of  imagining  our- 
selves to  be  kind  and  moral,  we  must  acknowledge  that  we 
are  immoral  and  cruel ;  instead  of  our  own  importance,  we 
must  see  our  own  insignificance."-^  We  must  consider  our- 
selves "like  all  other  men."  Such  are  the  foundation  ten- 
ets, the  principles  which  form  the  first  division  of  the 
answer. 


2.  Economic 
Answer 


Human  Duty 
of    Labor 


Having  seen  the  truth,  that  is,  avoided  deceit,  and  having 
repented  and  renounced,  we  are  in  a  position  to  carry  out 
the  second  or  economic  answer:  "to  fulfill  that  eternal, 
unquestionable  law  of  man — by  laboring  with  all  my  being 
to  struggle  with  nature,  to  sustain  my  own  life,  and  the  lives 
of  others. ' '  The  emphasis  is  again  and  again  placed  on  this 
"human  duty  of  labor."  Labor  must  be  acknowledged  to 
be  "not  a  curse,"  but  "the  joy  of  life. "-*^  Man  must  cease 
to  desire  to  possess  land  or  money,  or  rights  of  any  kind, 
and  only  desire  to  labor  for  himself  and  others.  "My  first 
and  unquestionable  business  is  to  earn  my  living,  clothing, 
heating,  building,  and  so  forth,  and  in  doing  this  to  serve 
others  as  well  as  myself,  because,  since  the  world  has  ex- 
isted, the  first  and  unquestionable  duty  of  every  man  has 
been  comprised  in  this."-' 

Each  man,  Tolstoy  argues,  should  be  credited  ^^^th  what 
he  produces  and  debited  with  what  he  consumes,  and  unless 
there  is  a  balance  on  the  credit  side  he  is  not  fulfilling  the 
purpose  of  life.  Recognizing  the  truth  of  the  proverb  that 
"if  there  is  one  idle  man  there  must  be  another  who  is 
starving,"  each  man  must  work  as  much  as  possible,  and 


25  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  243  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  293). 
20  Ibid.,  p.  258   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  308). 
2-!  Ibid.,  p.  246   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  296). 


Just   Division 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  85 

have  other  men  work  for  him  as  little  as  possible.  In  order 
not  to  utilize  the  labor  of  others  it  is  necessary  for  "every 
man  who  is  not  a  beast  to  hew  that  wood  with  which  his 
food  is  cooked  and  by  which  he  is  warmed;  to  clean  those 
boots  in  which  he  carelessly  stepped  into  the  mud ;  to  bring 
that  water  with  which  he  keeps  himself  clean,  and  to  carry 
away  those  slops  in  which  he  has  washed  himself."-^ 

In  order  not  to  profit  by  another  man's  labor  it  is  also 
necessary  "not  to  have  more  than  one  coat,  and  not  to  pos- 
sess money.  "^'* 

The  giving  up  of  rights,  of  land,  of  money,  and  working 
to  keep  ourselves  in  the  struggle  with  nature,  does  not  pre-  of  Labor 
elude  a  just  division  of  labor.  Everyone  must  do  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  physical  labor,  but  it  is  justifiable  to  follow 
a  chosen  line  of  other  work  if  other  men  demand  the  pro- 
ducts thereof — but  the  worker  must  be  willing  to  go  back  and 
devote  himself  entirely  to  the  bodily  struggle  with  nature 
if  the  demand  ceases.  The  sole  exterior  test  of  the  value 
of  any  activity  must  be  "the  acknowledgment  of  the  utility 
of  that  activity  by  those  to  whom  it  is  produced.  "^'^  But 
there  should  also  be  in  the  producer  ' '  the  desire  to  be  of  use 
to  others  lying  at  the  root  of  the  activity."^*'  True  division 
of  labor  should  consist  in  the  conscious  self-sacrifice  of  each 
worker  in  giving  himself  up  to  that  form  of  production 
which  is  for  the  good  of  all.  And  no  laborer  can  do  so 
much  that  he  is  justified  in  indulging  himself  in  expensive 
foods,  elaborate  dress,  and  other  luxuries,  or  in  freeing 
himself  entirely  from  the  more  disagreeable  forms  of  work. 

Tolstoy  applies  his  test  not  only  to  the  useful  arts  and  ^-  intellectual 
sciences,  but  to  the  field  of  fine  art  and  those  other  activities 
which  are  termed  intellectual.     "The  business  of  science 
is  to  serve  people.  "^^    He  would  sweep  aside  the  achieve- 
ment of  modern  invention  insofar  as  it  disregards  the  sanc- 


2s  Ibid.,  p.  143  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  173). 
^^  Ibid.,  p.  142   (tr.  "Wiener,  p.  172). 
^olbid.,  p.  173   (tr.  "Wiener,  p.  210). 
SI  Ibid.,  p.  217  (tr.  "Wiener,  p.  262), 


86  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

tity  of  human  life  and  departs  from  the  service  of  the 
masses.  All  science  and  all  art  are  to  be  judged  solely  by 
the  degree  to  wliich  they  ease  the  life  of  the  laborer  or  to 
which  they  teach  him  how  to  live  better.  ' '  Art  and  science 
promise  to  put  forth  the  mental  activity  of  mankind  for 
the  welfare  of  society  or  even  of  the  whole  of  mankind. 
And  therefore  we  have  a  right  to  call  only  such  activity 
art  and  science  which  has  this  aim  in  view  and  attains  it.  "^^ 
The  engineer,  the  surgeon,  the  teacher,  the  artist,  all 
must  consider  not  their  rights  but  their  duties.  Each  must 
suffer  for  mankind,  must  deny  himself — in  short,  must  bear 
a  cross.  All  the  false  and  meretricious  art  and  science 
which  now  claim  the  name,  serving  only  the  rich  few,  must 
give  way  to  an  art  and  science  that  will  serve  all  men 
alike.  Tolstoy's  answer  for  the  doctor  is  that  he  shall  live 
among  the  people  as  an  equal  and  in  their  service ;  for  the 
teacher,  that  he  shall  live  with  those  he  teaches,  and  accept 
•  what  they  offer  in  return ;  for  the  engineer,  that  he,  too, 
shall  come  to  live  among  the  laboring  people,  and  apply 
his  knowledge  to  the  easing  of  their  work;  and  for  the 
artist,  that  he  shall  renounce  the  differences  which  separate 
him  from  the  common  workingman  and  follow  his  art  only 
when  the  result  is  intelligible  and  useful  to  the  masses. 
Answer  Under  this  portion  of  the  chapter  concerned  with  the 

economic  and  intellectual  answers,  it  is  necessary  to  place 
Tolstoy's  answer  to  women,  which  he  discusses  separately 
at  the  end  of  his  book.  Women,  he  says,  have  broken  the 
law  of  life  far  less  than  men.  "The  service  of  mankind 
is  divided  into  two  parts — one,  the  augmentation  of  the 
welfare  of  mankind ;  the  other,  the  continuation  of  the  race. 
Men  are  called  chiefly  to  the  first,  as  they  are  deprived  of 
the  possibility  of  fulfilling  the  second.  Women  are  called 
exclusively  to  the  second,  as  they  only  are  fitted  for  it.  "^^ 
Tolstoy  praises  the  fruitful  mother,  who  "brings  forth  and 
nurses  her  children  herself."    The  woman  who  evades  child- 


for    Women 


32  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  p.  235  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  283). 
S3  Ibid.,  p.  281   (not  in  Wiener  translation). 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoij's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  87 

bearing  is  no  better  than  the  prostitute  of  the  street.  It 
is  only  necessary  for  a  woman  not  to  consider  the  sex-rela- 
tion a  means  of  living,  either  as  a  wife  or  as  a  prostitute, 
but  to  bear  children  honorably  and  with  full  consciousness 
of  the  cross  she  is  called  upon  to  carry  in  the  months  of 
pregnancy  and  nursing;  in  thus  sacrificing  herself  willingly 
to  the  good  of  mankind,  she  is  fulfilling  life's  purpose. 
Tolstoy  gratuitously  adds  that  "the  astounding  nonsense 
which  is  called  woman's  rights"  was  invented  for  the 
"woman  who  artificially  remains  childless,"^*  who  has 
been  corrupted  by  man  and  has  been  reduced  to  his  level 
of  depravity.  He  places  the  mother  as  a  model  before  men 
as  a  true  worker  for  the  good  of  the  world,  and  appeals  to 
all  women  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  motherhood,  and  further 
to  train  their  children  to  similar  sacrifice.  If  they  are  doing 
that,  they  need  not  ask  ivhat  is  to  he  done. 

Leaving  the  purely  economic  and  cultural  aspects  of  thp 
remedy,  we  now  turn  to  Tolstoy's  answer  as  it  concerns 
religion  and  ethics — the  spiritual  and  moral  aspects. 

Tolstoy's  religion  and  ethics  are  one.  The  essence  of  4.  Religious 
his  religion  is  in  the  conduct  of  man  to  man.  His  whole  ^^^  Ethical 
religious  structure  is  built  on  the  ethical  precept  of  brother- 
ly love — active  love  of  man  for  men.  His  desire  is  more 
for  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  bringing  happiness  to  men 
here  and  now  through  love  and  harmony,  than  for  the 
blessings  of  a  life  to  follow.  He  did  not  worry  about  a 
future  life,  and  was  willing  to  let  it  take  care  of  itself,  if 
he  could  only  fulfill  the  purpose  of  life  on  earth.  He 
expresses  a  profound  belief  in  the  purposefulness  of  life 
and  in  a  definite  relation  between  man  and  God — that  power 
which  actuates  man's  reason  and  conscience.  The  destiny 
of  man,  he  believes,  is  the  fulfillment  of  God's  will;  he  ex- 
presses the  thought  in  other  form  when  he  writes  that  "the 
sole  business  of  all  men  is  the  elucidation  of  moral  truths"; 
and  again  that  the  purpose  of  man 's  life  is  to  do  that  which 


3*  Ibid.,  p.  275   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  331). 


88  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

God  desires,  that  is,  do  good  and  promote  the  welfare  of 
mankind. 

Tolstoy  finds  his  religious  and  ethical  answer  to  the 
question  "What,  then,  shall  we  do?"  in  the  Gospels,  in 
the  spirit  of  John  the  Baptist's  answer  to  the  question. 

John  the  Baptist,  in  answer  to  men 's  question,  ' '  What  shall  we 
do,  then?"  answered  plainly  and  briefly,  "He  that  hath  two  coats, 
let  him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none ;  and  he  that  hath  meat,  let 
him  do  likewise.  "35 

The  same  thing,  and  with  still  greater  clearness,  said  Christ, 
blessing  the  poor  and  uttering  woes  on  the  rich.  He  said  that  no 
man  can  serve  God  and  mammon.ss 

This,  in  short,  is  Tolstoy 's  answer  to  Christians :  follow 
the  true  teachings  of  Christ,  and  disregard  the  false 
Christianity  of  dogma  and  superstition;  care  not  for 
material  things,  but  find  happiness  and  spiritual  satisfac- 
tion in  working  for  the  good  of  others ;  deliberately  pro- 
mote the  union  of  mankind  by  religion. 

Tolstoy  takes  the  basis  of  his  moral  and  ethical  code 
from  the  five  injunctions  of  Christ  expressed  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  which,  while  not  expressed  directly  in  What 
Is  To  Be  Done?,  cover  admirably  many  of  the  scattered 
points  there.  These  rules  he  would  put  in  the  place  of 
the  ten  commandments:  (1)  avoid  anger,  (2)  do  not  lust, 
but  choose  one  woman  and  live  with  her,  (3)  do  not  bind 
yourself  by  oaths,  (4)  never  resist  evil  by  force,  never  re- 
turn violence  for  violence,  (5)  love  your  enemies. ^^ 

These  injunctions,  since  they  embrace  that  doctrine  of 
non-resistance  which  Tolstoy  applies  to  both  religion  and 
government,  may  well  serve  to  carry  the  discussion  from 
the  religious  aspect  of  the  answer  to  the  governmental 
aspect. 


"•"  Luke  iii.  11. 

:"••  (Vhat  Is  To  Be  Done?  pp.  137-8   (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  l()C-7). 
37  Cf.   Tolstoy,  My  Religion,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener    (Boston, 
Estes,  1904),  pp.  93,  165-6,  203. 


Answer 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  89 

In  the  preface  of  The  Slavery  of  Our  Times  (1900),  s.  Govem- 
Tolstoy  says  that  the  fundamental  idea  of  What  Is  To  Be 
Done?  is  the  rejection  of  violence,  that  being  the  doctrine  of 
**  non-resistance  "  which  had  been  formulated  in  My  Religion 
and  applied  to  a  certain  extent  in  What  Is  To  Be  Done? 
As  it  concerns  the  curing  of  social  wrongs,  this  teaching 
urges  the  use  of  unresisting  love  to  overcome  evil,  as  against 
the  use  of  coercion  and  violence :  overcome  evil  solely  by 
good.  Never  resist,  but  turn  the  other  cheek;  and  do  not 
defend  your  property  if  others  attempt  to  take  it.  All 
government  by  force  must  be  abolished.  For  as  long  as 
there  is  government,  i.e.,  organized  armed  violence,  slavery 
will  exist,  and  wealth  will  be  accumulated  among  the  op- 
pressors. When  there  is  no  government  there  will  be  no 
armies  and  no  wars,  no  courts  and  no  lawsuits,  and  no 
official  class  to  swallow  the  products  of  others.  Instead, 
Tolstoy  says,  there  will  be  a  state  of  peaceful  anarchy  in 
which  all  men  will  work  for  each  other's  good,  restrained 
from  evil  and  violence  by  reason  and  conscience  and  moral 
suasion.  Repression  and  coercion  will  not  be  necessary  as 
love  will  adjust  all  relations  between  men. 

In  order  to  do  away  with,  governments,  which  exist 
only  to  oppress  the  people,  it  is  necessary  for  everyone 
simply  to  refuse  to  take  part  in  governmental  affairs.  This, 
then,  is  the  answer  to  the  title-question  as  it  concerns  the 
abolishment  of  government :  take  no  part  in  military  affairs, 
nor  in  official  work  of  any  sort,  take  no  pensions,  pay  no 
taxes,  and  in  every  way  act  as  though  no  government  ex- 
isted. 

These,  then,  are  Tolstoy's  many  answers  to  the  question, 
"What  shall  we  do  then?"  It  is  little  wonder  that  the 
reader  who  has  turned  to  the  book  to  find  clear-cut  injunc- 
tions as  to  what  he  shall  do,  turns  away  with  a  sensation 
of  confusion.  For  there  is  much  in  the  answer  that  seems 
a  mere  mass  of  unrelated  generalities. 

In  closing  the  chapter  it  is  well  to  put  in  a  single  para- 


90  TJyiiversity  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

graph  those  bald  precepts  Avhieh  carry,  either  directly  or  hy 
suggestion,  the  essence  of  Tolstoy's  message. 
Essence  of  Avoid  deceit,  and  do  not  be  afraid  to  contradict  all  your 

the  Remedy  environment  and  face  the  truth ;  cease  seeking  for  pleasure 
and  luxury,  renounce  your  advantages,  and  live  like  the 
working  people  and  among  them ;  labor  with  all  your  being 
in  the  struggle  for  bread;  sacrifice  yourself  consciously  for 
the  good  of  others,  considering  not  rights  but  duties;  do 
not  have  more  than  one  coat,  and  do  not  possess  land  or 
money,  but  further  the  brotherly  equalization  of  property; 
make  the  welfare  of  mankind  your  religion,  professing 
Christ's  true  teaching  and  tearing  down  the  superstitions 
of  false  Christianity;  refuse  to  take  part  in  any  form  of 
government  activity;  and  through  it  all,  everywhere  and 
at  all  times,  love  your  brother  men. 

Such  is  the  remedy  which,  by  regenerating  men  indi- 
vidually, will  peacefully  revolutionize  the  social  system,  will 
make  all  men  free  and  equal  and  happy,  and  will  do  away 
with  that  poverty  which  so  distressed  Tolstoy  in  Moscow 
and  led  him  to  ask,  "What  is  to  be  done?" 


1912]      Cheneij:  Tolstorj's'nVhat  Is  To  Be  Done?"  91 


PART  II.  A  CRITICAL  ESTIMATE  OP  THE  VALUE 

OF  THE  BOOK  TO  THE  PRESENT  REBUILD- 

ING  OF  THE  SOCIAL  STRUCTURE 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  VALUE  OF  THE  PICTURE  AND  DIAGNOSIS 

If  this  essay  has  accomplished  its  purpose,  it  has  pre- 
sented a  reasonably  complete  interpretation  of  Tolstoy's 
book.  A  simple  sketch  in  black  and  white  has  been  built 
up  of  Tolstoy's  elaborately  colored  picture  of  poverty  and 
vice;  the  argument  of  his  diagnosis  has  been  condensed  to 
its  barest  form ;  and  the  essence  of  his  remedy  has  been 
presented  in  organized  outline,  summarizing  as  far  as  pos- 
sible his  answer  to  the  question,  "What  is  to  be  done?" 
Thus  the  interpretative  half  of  the  essay  is  finished.  It 
is  now  necessary  to  turn  to  the  second  half — at  once  the 
more  difficult  and  the  more  important — to  estimate  critically 
the  value  of  the  book  to  the  present-day  rebuilding  of  the 
social  structure. 

As  a  preliminary  it  is  necessary  to  indicate  Avhat  is  to  Modem  social 
be  understood  by  the  phrase  modern  social  reconstruction.  Reconstruc- 
Is  there  a  movement  for  social  rebuilding  which  is  any- 
thing more  than  a  periodic  housecleaning  of  the  social 
structure?  Every  magazine  and  every  newspaper  shouts 
its  reply  to  the  four  winds ;  some  by  the  frankest  discussion 
of  social  problems  and  of  the  increasing  unrest;  and  some, 
to  be  sure,  by  eagerly  asserting  that  things  are  very  satis- 
factory as  they  are.     Library  shelves  are  daily  becoming 


tion 


92  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

more  crowded  by  pro-and-con  literature,  written  by  anar- 
chists, socialists,  social  workers,  labor  leaders,  educators, 
and  even  by  business  and  professional  men  and  women,  and 
by  the  clergy.  Our  actual  experience  every  day  encounters 
the  movement,  in  industry,  in  business,  in  politics,  in  school 
and  church.  There  is  indeed  a  mighty  unrest  upon  the 
nations.  The  poor  and  the  workingmen  are  the  hotbed  of 
the  movement,  but  joining  with  them  is  an  ever  increasing 
army  of  sincere  and  ardent  workers  drawn  from  the  other 
strata  of  society.  Their  activity  finds  a  thousand  outlets, 
and  the  reformers  seem  at  times  to  be  working  directly 
against  each  other — but  all  are  fired  by  the  one  enthusi- 
asm for  social  justice.  The  most  hopeful  sign  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  movement  is  the  crumbling  of  the  fatalistic 
attitude — the  acknowledgment  that  Avar  and  prostitution 
and  crime,  and  even  poverty,  can  be  reduced  by  an  evolu- 
tion or  revolution  of  society  to  negligible  quantities.  To- 
gether with  this  crumbling  of  fatalism  has  come  a  startling 
revelation  of  the  present  extent  of  these  evils  and  of  their 
economic  causes.  It  is  these  things  that  have  caused 
universal  social  unrest,  and  against  them  the  social  forces 
are  struggling.  In  a  thousand  guises  and  on  a  thousand 
fields  the  new  army  is  fighting  against  vice,  poverty,  and 
disease,  in  every  form;  and  the  new  and  greatest  battle  of 
all,  against  the  economic  causes  of  all  these  evils,  has  begun. 
When  the  smoke  clears  away,  decades  hence,  the  humani- 
tarians hope  to  see  a  world  in  which  there  will  be  no  causes 
of  misery,  and  in  which  every  person  will  have  a  share,  not 
only  in  the  surplus  of  material  blessings,  but  of  those 
humanizing  influences  which  make  life  healthy,  happy  and 
noble. 

Yes,  truly  the  social  structure  is  being  rebuilt.  The 
work  is  slow,  terribly  slow  for  the  impatient  worker ;  there 
are  many  false  starts,  and  the  plans  are  far  from  clear. 
But  today  more  than  ever  before  the  world  is  aroused  to 
the  necessity  of  the  work,  and  the  social  movement  has 
more  definite  form  tlian  ever  in  history. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"  93 

What  part  has  Tolstoy  in  the  movement?  What  does 
his  book,  WJiat  Is  To  Be  Donef,  bring  to  the  rebuilding  of 
the  structure?  In  the  first  place,  of  what  value  is  his  pic- 
ture of  misery,  of  poverty  and  vice,  and  of  contrasting 
wealth  ? 

Obviously  a  picture  and  diagnosis  can  have  no  value  vaiue  of 
as  an  actual  cure  for  the  social  disease.  But  they  may  have  *  ^  "^*^^* 
immense  value  as  an  indication  of  the  extent  of  the  trouble 
and  as  impulses  to  the  social  doctors.  They  may  open  the 
way  to  a  cure  and  so  be  entirely  necessary  to  the  cure. 
The  value  of  Tolstoy's  picture  is  this:  that  it  shows  con- 
ditions as  they  are  (not  as  the  smug  citizen  supposes  they 
are),  and  that  it  shows  the  need  for  action.  The  misery 
is  so  brought  home  to  the  reader  that  he  cannot  remain 
ignorant  of  the  horror  that  exists  almost  at  his  elbow. 
There  is  no  illusion,  no  story  told  for  effect ;  it  is  life 
itself  suddenly  flashed  into  his  consciousness,  with  all  its 
sordidness,  hopelessness,  and  pathetic  need  of  betterment. 
Throughout  all  his  soul-stirring  books,  Tolstoy  never  wrote 
anything  more  soul-stirring  than  some  of  the  descriptive 
passages  in  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  In  this  appeal  to  the 
reader's  soul — and  the  readers  cannot  be  counted — is  the 
value  of  the  picture.  It  has  been  well  termed  Russia's 
contribution  to  the  world's  exposition  of  M^retchedness. 

If  Tolstoy's  picture  of  poverty  and  vice  stirs  the  reader's  vaiue  of 
soul,  his  diagnosis  must  carry  conviction  of  sin.  The  pic-  ^^'^  Diagnosis 
ture  is  a  bit  of  life  itself ;  but  in  the  diagnosis  Tolstoy  uses 
all  of  his  unconscious  art  to  arouse  the  consciences  of  his 
readers.  He  brings  the  guilt  home  to  every  social  parasite 
and  he  makes  every  reader  feel  a  personal  responsibility  for 
the  existence  of  evil.  He  breaks  down  the  barrier  which 
separates  the  poor  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  lets  a 
great  white  light  into  "the  dreadful  dark  of  prejudice." 

The  long  didactic  discussion  of  money  —  so  different    Vaiue  of 
from  the  rest  of  the  book — would  require  a  book  in  itself  Anriv^is 
to  prove  or  refute  the  argument.     But  what  is  important 
here  is  that  its  arraignment  of  political  economy  exhibits 


94  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

Tolstoy's  great  sympathy  and  his  passion  for  the  welfare 
of  humanity.  It  lays  bare  political  economy's  great  basic 
injustice:  its  taking  of  wealth  as  the  beginning  and  end  of 
its  aim,  and  treatment  of  man  as  an  incidental  fact.  Tol- 
stoy, on  the  other  hand,  takes  man  as  the  starting  point  and 
insists  that  wealth  should  be  considered  only  as  contributing 
to  or  taking  aAvay  from  man's  welfare.  The  scientists  are 
comparable  to  those  factory-owners  of  today  who  drive 
their  workers  to  the  limit  of  endurance  in  order  to  increase 
production,  and  discard  them  when  they  are  prematurely 
worn  out,  considering  men  only  as  a  means  of  production; 
whereas  Tolstoy  would  have  us  consider  the  product  only 
as  a  contribution  to  man's  comfort,  and  the  welfare  of  men 
as  the  final  object. 

Throughout  the  diagnosis  Tolstoy  carries  the  conviction 
that  there  is  something  higher  and  more  valuable  to  human- 
ity than  the  institutions  of  money  and  political  science  and 
selfish  religion.  He  destroys  the  long-established  concep- 
tions that  these  institutions  are  sacred  when  separated  from 
the  service  of  mankind.  He  shows  the  rottenness  of  the 
existing  social  structure,  challenges  its  sacredness,  and  by 
beginning  its  demolition,  he  paves  the  way  for  the  new. 

The  effect  of  Tolstoy's  revelation  of  conditions,  and  of 
his  direct  way  of  calling  the  guilty  guilty,  is  felt  not  in 
one  class  of  men  but  in  all.  The  tremendous  popularity  o£ 
his  earlier  books  in  all  civilized  countries  doubtless  carried 
What  Is  To  Be  Done?  into  the  hands  of  many  who  found 
it  a  champion  of  their  cause,  as  well  as  to  many  who  read 
it  in  luxury,  which  it  turned  suddenly  unbearable.  In  a 
world  become  full  of  revelations,  it  is  difficult  to  estimate 
the  value  to  the  social  rebuilding  of  one  of  the  greatest  of 
these  revelations.  But  certainly  no  picture  and  diagnosis 
of  the  social  wrong  ever  did  more  to  make  men  feel  ''not 
merely  that  these  things  must  be  ended  but  also  that  the 
greatest  and  most  inspiring  work  a  man  can  do  is  to  lielp 
end  them."^^ 


3«  Maude,  The  Life  of  Tolstoy,  ii,  277. 


Movement 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"         95 

There  is  a  new  feeling  in  the  social  movement  today  Soui  of  the 
which  is  the  very  embodiment  of  this  inspiration  and 
spiritual  impulse  of  Tolstoy.  It  is  what  may  be  called  the 
''soul  of  the  social  movement,"  the  personal  equation  in 
social  service,  a  spiritual  understanding  between  all  the 
helpers,  a  sympathetic,  purposive  co-operation.  It  is  based 
on  a  generous  humanitarianism,  directly  opposed  to  the 
dry-eyed,  empty-hearted,  giving-of-money  charity.  It  is 
a  growing,  thinking  force  which  is  aiming  not  at  misery 
but  at  the  causes  of  misery,  a  force  which  is  gradually 
taking  the  form  of  a  world-conscience.  To  this  soul  of  the 
social  movement  Tolstoy  brought  a  wonderful  impulse. 
Whether  his  suggested  remedy  is  good  or  not,  his  picture 
and  diagnosis  have  stirred  men's  souls  and  brought  ardent 
personal  workers  to  the  field.  Even  if  he  fail  us  as  a  guide, 
as  an  inspiration  he  is  a  world-power. 


96  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  VALUE  OF  THE  REMEDY 

We  have  seen  how  Tolstoy,  by  his  exposition  of  misery 
and  his  study  of  its  causes,  cleared  the  way  of  old  super- 
stitions about  the  sacredness  and  indestructibility  of  the 
existing  social  structure,  and  how  he  contributed  to  the 
spirit  of  the  rebuilders.  For  that  he  must  be  considered 
invaluable  to  modern  social  reconstruction.  But  turning 
from  the  value  of  his  picture  and  diagnosis,  we  may  in- 
quire now  what  is  the  value  of  his  plans  for  the  new  struc- 
ture, what  the  value  of  his  constructive  remedy  for  existing 
evils.  For  Tolstoy  did  propound  a  cure.  He  sincerely 
believed  that,  if  the  world  would  accept  the  teachings  set 
forth  in  What  Is  To  Be  Donef,  a  new  social  order  would 
follow,  bringing  with  it  justice  and  peace  and  happiness 
to  all  men.  The  aim  of  this  chapter  is  to  separate  the  true 
from  the  false  in  the  answer,  to  inquire  to  what  extent  the 
plans  are  of  value  to  the  workers  in  current  reconstruction, 
and  to  what  extent  the  present  generation  of  humanitarians 
is  obliged  to  depart  from  the  plans.  These  are  questions 
which  no  one  of  Tolstoy's  commentators  has  adequately 
treated ;  there  has  hardl}^  been  an  attempt  to  consider  them. 
So  with  one  eye  on  the  basic  principles  which  the  prophets 
of  all  ages  have  held  to,  and  with  the  other  on  the  present 
world-wide  social  movement,  let  us  try  to  draw  a  true  line 
between  what,  in  Tolstoy's  teachings,  is  prophetic  fact  and 
what  is  fallacy.  And  let  us  try  to  do  this  impersonally  and 
dispassionateh',  attempting  to  get  that  outsider's  birdseye 
view  of  imminent  social  changes  which  is  at  once  so  difficult 
to  attain  and  yet  so  necessary  if  one's  opinions  are  to  be 
uncolored  by  personal  prejudice. 


1912]      Chenexj:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"         97 

In  the  first  place,  let  us  face  the  one  basic  fact  (so  ob-  Breadth 
scure  to  many  reformers)  that  there  is  no  sinj^le  highroad  godaA 
to  social  justice.  Neither  the  socializing  of  the  churches,  Problem 
nor  the  attainment  of  pure  democracy,  nor  the  public  owner- 
ship of  machinery,  nor  universal  peace,  is  going  to  accom- 
plish the  humanitarian 's  dream.  The  inevitable  change  that 
is  stirring  the  world  is  not  essentially  religious,  or  political, 
or  economic ;  it  is  an  evolutionary  force  involving  every 
phase  of  each  one  of  these  directions  of  reform.  The 
achievement  of  economic  justice  will  come  only  with  a  solid 
basis  of  religious  enthusiasm  and  with  political  betterment. 
Nor  will  the  strengthening  of  the  world's  moral  fiber  ac- 
complish anything  if  it  be  separated  from  economic  reform. 
Of  the  three  rough  divisions,  political  reconstruction,  re- 
ligious reconstruction,  and  economic  reconstruction,  doubt- 
less the  third  is  the  heart  of  the  movement.  For  the  first 
fact  of  life  is  that  man  must  have  food,  clothing,  and  shel- 
ter. And  by  concentrating  on  the  economic  phase,  humani- 
tarians will  meet  the  most  immediate  need  of  the  world,  by 
saving  the  great  waste  of  human  life,  and  affording  to  all 
a  chance  to  enjoy  the  higher  pleasures.  But  the  import- 
ance of  concurrent  religious  development  and  political  bet- 
terment must  be  kept  in  mind — else  the  benefits  will  not 
be  lasting. 

This  sense  of  the  interweaving  nature  of  social  move-  Tolstoy's  Lack 

,       •  J.-      1  •!!   J.1  £  •      i      1  I,-       of  Perspective 

ments  is  entirelj'  necessary  ii  the  reformer  is  to  keep  his 
bearings  on  the  great  sea  of  social  work.  It  is  a  sense 
which  Tolstoy  lacked  to  a  marked  degree.  His  desire  for 
a  simple,  immediate,  all-embracing  change,  his  distrust 
and  suspicion  of  the  plans  of  others,  and  his  impatience  with 
any  movement  outside  of  his  own  isolated  course  of  life, 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  recognize  the  possibility  of 
reaching  social  justice  through  an  evolutionary  process 
taking  place  in  a  hundred  directions.  In  a  sense  he  did 
see  political,  economic,  and  religious  answers  to  his  ques- 
tion, "What  is  to  be  done?,"  but  he  did  not  see  the  rela- 
tion between  them.    He  treated  each  as  a  separate  thing — 


98  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

and  right  there  is  the  source  of  that  confusion  which  the 
reader  feels  at  the  end  of  the  book.  And  there,  too,  is  the 
source  of  the  fallacy  which  underlies  the  futility  of  his 
political  teachings  and  the  half-truths  of  his  economic  reme- 
dies. It  is  a  false  attitude  toward  the  social  movement,  a 
faulty  method  of  attack. 
The  Tolstoy  plans  to  revolutionize  society  entirely  by  in- 

Fundamentai  dividual  regeneration:  to  persuade  men  to  better  them- 
selves, and  then  to  stand  aside  from  the  main  current  of 
human  affairs.  Because  complex  modern  life  has  brought 
new  evils,  he  would  have  each  man  reform  personally  and 
then  place  himself  in  isolation  far  away  from  the  world 
machinery. 

But  Tolstoy  saw  only  half  of  the  truth.  It  is  indeed 
true  that  the  fundamental  change  which  each  man  can 
bring  to  the  rebuilding  of  society  is  the  revolution  of  his 
own  mind  and  heart.  But  if  he  stops  there  he  has  fulfilled 
only  half  of  his  social  duty.  It  is  as  if  he  used  up  all  of 
his  strength  and  resources  in  building  a  fine  foundation  for 
his  house  and  had  nothing  left  for  the  building  of  the 
superstructure. 

In  rebuilding  the  social  structure  humanity  must  have 
this  solid  foundation  of  individual  regeneration.  The  re- 
former must  reform  himself  first.  But  beyond  that  there 
is  a  crying  need  for  organized  regeneration,  for  a  sense  of 
public  obligation.  We  who  live  in  the  maelstrom  of  com- 
plex modern  life,  as  Tolstoy  did  not,  see  certain  truths 
which  escaped  him  entirely.  We  see  that  it  is  necessary 
to  follow  his  injunction  and  regenerate  individually,  and 
then  to  cut  loose  from  his  guidance  and  throw  our  whole 
weight  into  revolutionizing  the  existing  world  machinery. 
We  see  that  in  the  present  complex  social  system  individual 
personal  effort  and  example  can  do  nothing  more  than 
stir  the  surface ;  that  organized  and  public  effort  are  neces- 
sary in  order  to  move  the  masses.  The  present  organiza- 
tion of  society  has  terribly  evil  aspects,  but  though  evil 
be  piled  on  evil,  we  shall  not,  like  Tolstoy,  brush  aside  im- 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoij's"  What  Is  To  Be  Done f"  99 

patiently  the  entire  achievement  of  modern  civilization.  It 
is  this  very  organized  achievement,  which  Tolstoy  combats, 
that  has  brought  the  world  to  the  point  of  producing  an 
over-ijbundance  of  food  and  clothing,  more  than  enough  for 
every  living  being.  It  is  not  fairly  distributed  and  the  sys- 
tem is  terribly  defective  as  yet,  but  justice  is  within  reach 
at  last.  Then  the  thing  to  do  is  not  to  turn  back  but  to 
go  on  and  correct  the  system.  We  must  work  toward  a 
common  social  destiny  by  further  and  more  complete  or- 
ganization. A  sentence  written  by  Jane  Addams,  and  called 
by  Aylmer  Maude  the  profoundest  c„Tid  truest  criticism  of 
Tolstoyism  he  knows,  sums  up  Tolstoy's  individualistic 
fallacy  admirably:  "We  are  learning  that  a  standard  of 
social  ethics  is  not  attained  by  traveling  sequestered  by- 
ways, but  by  mixing  on  the  thronged  and  common  road 
where  all  must  turn  out  for  one  another,  and  at  least  see 
the  size  of  one  another's  burdens. "^'^ 

Truly  this  fault,  which  allows  Tolstoy  to  be  content  with 
the  man  who  personally  reforms  and  then  steps  out  of  the 
world's  affairs,  is  a  great  one.  It  forces  us  to  discount  im- 
mediately the  value  of  his  remedy  to  modern  reconstruc- 
tion. Had  w^e  not  already  seen  the  impulse  he  gave  to 
rebuilding,  and  were  some  of  the  other  aspects  of  his 
remedy  less  fine,  we  could  not  forgive  him.  But  he  is 
great  in  spite  of  his  f^iults. 

In  considering  the  value  of  Tolstoy's  teaching  to  polit-  vaiue  of 
ical  reconstruction  the  fundamental  fault  is  most  apparent.  Political 
Political  reconstruction  for  Tolstoy  means  the  attainment 
of  a  condition  where  politics  is  non-existent.  His  answer 
to  the  political  aspect  of  the  title-question  is  at  least  straight- 
forward: "Abolish  government."  To  do  this  it  is  only 
necessary  for  each  individual  to  refuse  to  take  any  part 
in  government  affairs. 

The  state  of  peaceful  anarchy  that  would  ensue,  Tol- 
stoy thinks,  would  preclude  laws,  courts,  armies,  navies,  the 


39  Democracy  and  Social  Ethics  (New  York,  Maemillan,  1902),  p.  9. 


100  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

official  class,  and  the  military  class,  "i.e.,  people  educated 
and  fore-appointed  to  murder."*"  There  would  be  no  such 
thing  as  patriotism.  Men  would  be  restrained  from  violence 
by  conscience  and  reason  and  moral  suasion. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  either  in  Tolstoy's  independent 
nature,  or  in  the  continual  persecution  by  the  Russian  gov- 
ernment, sufficient  re&son  for  his  anarchic  doctrine.  To  the 
student  of  human  nature  anarchy  is  an  impossible  solu- 
tion of  human  problems. 

In  the  first  place,  wherever  human  beings  come  in  con- 
tact on  the  earth  there  is  bound  to  be  friction  sooner  or 
later.  Where  there  is  friction  there  is  need  of  a  tribunal, 
and  as  soon  as  a  tribunal  is  established,  the  germ  of  govern- 
ment is  introduced.  And  it  is  not  a  great  step  from  the 
simplest  court  to  the  ponderous  national  mechanism  of 
today.  Government  is  necessary  so  long  as  human  nature 
is  not  revolutionized. 

Tolstoy's  answer  as  it  concerns  government  is  worthless 
to  the  social  movement.  The  modern  reformer  sees  that, 
to  reach  social  justice,  government  is  not  to  be  abolished, 
but  that  it  must  be  used  to  that  end.  Instead  of  refusing 
to  take  part  in  government  affairs,  he  does  all  he  can  to 
shape  government  activities  to  social  ends.  He  pays  his 
share  of  taxes  and  at  the  same  time  tries  to  readjust  more 
fairly  the  tax  sj'stem.  He  accepts  political  office  to  fight 
the  more  effectually  for  the  people.  In  short,  he  recog- 
nizes that  if  existing  government  is  harmful  to  the  people's 
interests  the  way  to  remed}^  the  matter  is  not  to  stand  aside 
but  to  do  his  best  to  turn  it  to  the  service  of  the  people. 
Moreover  he  recognizes  that  government  is  the  only  power 
strong  enough  to  accomplish  and  maintain  social  justice. 
Only  where  men  have  organized,  limiting  individual  free- 
dom for  the  common  good,  have  they  even  approached  the 
social  ideal. 


<"  From  a  letter  on  the  South  African  War  by  Tolstoy,  quottnl  by 
Maude,  Tolstoy  and  His  Problems   (London,  Eichards,  1902),  p.  183. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        101 

Of  course  Tolsto}^  sees  the  abolishment  of  war  in  the  Toistoy  and 


abolishment  of  government ;  and  civilization  should  be  will- 
ina:  to  make  almost  any  sacrifice  to  rid  itself  of  the  horrors 
of  war.  The  fearful  waste  of  life  and  property  in  time 
of  war,  and  the  standing  armies  and  navies  sapping  the 
vitality  of  nations  in  time  of  peace — these  are  evils  of  a 
pjvgan  time.  No  student  of  current  life  can  doubt  for  a 
moment  that  world-peace  is  inevitable.  "War  will  be  swept 
away  with  its  sister  evils  by  the  tide  of  human  sympathy 
which  is  increasingly  shaping  the  world's  destinies.  It  is 
too  foreign  to  the  whole  spirit  of  modern  times,  and  to  the 
aims  of  the  new  social  movement,  to  last.  But  the  quickest 
and  securest  way  to  universal  peace  is  not  through  the 
gradual  abolishment  of  government,  but  through  &n  inter- 
national tribunal  gained  by  union  of  effort  of  national  gov- 
ernments. 

If  Tolstoy's  way  to  universal  peace  is  wrong,  at  least 
he  did  help  in  great  me&sure  to  stir  the  world  to  a 
realization  of  its  guilt.  He  is  doubtless  right  in  declaring 
that  nations  do  not  go  to  war  to  secure  justice  or  to  further 
peace,  but  for  the  sake  of  w^ealth,  or  on  account  of  an 
over-conscious  and  misguided  patriotism.  We  may  easily 
agree  with  him  that  war  is  usually  based  on  the  prestige  of 
gold — how  much  his  cry  is  like  th&t  hurled  at  our  national 
government  today:  "Dollar  diplomacy!" — but  few  of  us 
will  agree  that  patriotism  is  entirely  bad.  Love  of  home  and 
family,  love  of  city,  love  of  country,  love  of  humanity' — 
they  are  simply  units  within  units.  Each  one  is  necessary 
in  its  place  and  in  proper  relation  to  the  others.  The  man 
who  is  always  ready  to  snatch  a  gun  and  cry  "My  country, 
right  or  wrong,"  is  as  guilty  as  the  thief  or  capitalist  who 
says  "My  purse,  right  or  wrong."  But  there  is  a  better 
sort  of  patriotism,  which  places  justice  higher  than  the 
national  interest.  It  is  through  the  education  of  the  people 
to  this  higher  patriotism,  and  through  the  decreased  power 
of  gold  in  government,  resulting  in  union  of  the  nations, 
that  universal  peace  wall  be  established — and  not,  as  Tol- 


Universal 
Peace 


Resistance 


102  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

stoy  believed,  through  the  abolishment  of  patriotism  and 
government. 
Value  of  Non-  There  is  one  more  phase  of  Tolstoy's  political  teaching 
to  be  discussed,  the  governmental  aspect  of  non-resistance. 
As  a  whole  it  is  the  most  clearly  fallacious,  even  ridiculous, 
of  all  of  Tolstoy's  teachings.  Nevertheless  it  is  probably 
the  source  of  two  of  the  most  promising  forces  in  present- 
day  reform. 

All  government  by  force  is  wrong,  Tolstoy  teaches; 
violence  must  not  be  used  even  against  criminals.  But 
the  modern  complex  world,  however  much  it  sees  the  beauty 
of  non-resistance  in  theory,  sees  one  step  further;  it  recog- 
nizes that  until  some  other  very  revolutionary  changes  oc- 
cur, some  repressive  measures  must  be  taken.  But — and 
here  is  the  value  of  Tolstoy's  teaching — among  the  prisons 
the  ones  that  have  adopted  the  "golden  rule"  system  are 
the  ones  that  are  driving  the  criminal  tendency  out  of  the 
world.  In  the  darkness  of  prison  evils — become  for  us  a 
national  shame — the  only  light  has  arrived  through  Tol- 
stoy's doctrine  of  the  golden  rule. 

The  other  valuable  heritage  that  we  receive  from  non- 
resistance  is  the  attitude  toward  the  stamping-out  of  crime. 
We  have  suddenly  stopped  increasing  our  police  forces, 
which  fight  against  results  of  crime  only.  But  we  are  in- 
creasing a  thousand-fold  the  forces  which  fight  against  the 
causes  of  crime.  Again  it  is  the  rule  of  non-resistance,  not 
pure  but  modified,  which  actuates  us.  The  teaching  is  that 
we  need  not  consider  how  to  prevent  murder,  and  prostitu- 
tion, and  theft,  if  we  will  only  fight  hard  enough  to  eradi- 
cate anger,  lustfulness,  and  covetousness.  Instead  of  fight- 
ing evil  with  all  our  strength  we  are  providing  good.  In 
this,  modern  social  reconstruction  is  certainly  carrying  out 
Tolstoy's  teaching  as  far  as  is  possible  in  a  complex  world, 
however  indirect  the  impulse  from  Tolstoy  may  be. 

In  spite  of  Tolstoy's  plea  for  "no-government,"  the 
world  marches  to  increasing  and  ever-increasing  democracy. 
Out  of  the  wreck  of  his  political  plan,  modern  reformers 


1912]      Chenetj:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        103 

have  grasped  just  two  things  of  value  to  the  new  social 
structure — the  idea  of  the  golden  rule  in  prison  adminis- 
tration, and  the  shifting  of  the  attack  on  evil  from  the 
police  force  to  an  army  of  humanitarians. 

Tolstoy  prefaced  his  plan  for  religious  betterment  with 
an  appeal  to  avoid  deceit,  face  the  truth  and  adopt  an 
humble  rather  than  a  self-righteous  attitude  toward  the 
world.  In  seeking  helpers  in  his  charity  plan  he  had  en- 
countered every  sort  of  deceptive  excuse,  of  self-righteous- 
ness and  of  apathy.  As  Tolstoy  found  it  thirty  years  ago, 
so  the  humanitarian  finds  it  today.  The  first  enemies  to 
be  fought  are  those  static  forces,  complacency,  ignorance 
and  apathy.  The  smug  citizen,  hugging  the  pet  prejudices 
which  have  been  his  from  time  immemorial,  satisfied  with 
things  as  they  are,  confining  his  religion  to  Sundays,  mar- 
riages and  funerals,  is  the  great  stumbling-block  to  better- 
ment. Every  social  reformer  will  agree  heartily  that  the 
fulfillment  of  these  preliminary  precepts  of  Tolstoy  is  the 
first  need  in  social  regeneration.  If  the  world  can  be 
awakened,  can  be  made  to  face  the  truth,  the  battle  is  all 
but  won. 

Tolstoy's  religion  is  founded  on  the  ethical  precept  of  vaiue  of 
brotherly  love ;  the  essence  of  his  religious  teaching  is  active  Religious  and 

.  Ethical 

love  of  man  for  men ;  he  links  religion  to  ethics,  to  conduct  Remedy 
in  everyday  human  life;  he  appeals  for  the  establishment 
of  God's  kingdom  on  earth  through  harmony  and  love,  and 
leaves  the  life  after  death  to  take  care  of  itself ;  he  preaches 
a  definite  relation  between  man  and  God,  and  a  definite 
purpose  in  life,  namely,  to  do  God's  will  by  promoting  the 
welfare  of  all  men.  He  pleads  on  the  one  hand  for  the 
socialization  of  religion,  for  the  union  of  religion  and 
ethics;  but  on  the  other  for  the  preservation  of  the  belief 
in  a  direct  relation  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  be- 
tween man  and  God. 

If  one  attempted  a  summary  of  the  trend  of  the 
Christian  church  today,  could  it  be  expressed  better  than 


104 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 


Church 
Reconstruc- 
tion 


Tolstoy's 
Basis  of 
Morality 


by  repeating  this  summary  of  Tolstoy's  religion?  This 
double  teaching,  of  the  social  purpose  of  the  church  and  of 
the  sacredness  of  the  reverential  attitude  toward  God,  is 
the  very  essence  of  the  modern  religious  movement.  How- 
ever worthless  some  of  the  other  aspects  of  Tolstoy 's  remedy 
may  prove,  he  is  preeminently  the  prophet  of  the  new  Chris- 
tianity. 

But  to  pursue  the  point  further,  let  us  inquire  what  is 
the  new  Christianity,  and  what  is  present-day  church  re- 
construction. There  is  a  curious  anomaly  in  the  use  of 
the  term  "new"  Christianity;  for  really  the  movement  is 
only  a  return  to  the  teachings  of  the  founder  of  Christi- 
anity. It  is  the  return  from  the  worship  of  church,  to  the 
service  of  God  and  man  according  to  Christ's  doctrines.  It 
is  the  separation  from  that  mass  of  church  form  and  ritual, 
of  dogma  and  superstition,  which  had  clogged  religious 
service,  and  prevented  the  church  from  helping  humanity. 
It  is  the  growth  of  the  sense  that  the  duty  of  religion  is 
less  to  the  church  than  to  society.  The  old  church,  which 
taught  the  sacredness  of  certain  forms,  which  promised 
happiness  after  death  but  did  nothing  to  relieve  the 
wretchedness  of  humanity,  which  preached  that  every  other 
church  w^as  heretical,  is  giving  way  to  the  new  church,  which 
brings  religion  to  the  solution  of  the  problems  of  daily  life, 
which  makes  it  a  part  of  man's  business  and  social  code, 
and  which  recognizes  in  other  churches  the  same  true  aims. 
No  one  can  doubt  that  the  church  is  going  through  a  crisis 
in  its  history.  Whether  it  has  educated  the  people  beyond 
its  own  limitations,  or  has  divorced  itself  from  the  service 
of  the  people,  the  fact  remains  that  church  attendance  is 
pitifully  small;  whether  by  its  own  fault,  or  by  social  revo- 
lution, it  has  lost  its  place  as  the  sole  expression  of  man's 
spiritual  longing. 

With  the  crumbling  of  the  church  power,  there  has 
come  the  crumbling  of  that  fear  of  future  punishment  and 
of  that  hope  of  future  reward  which  for  centuries  have 
been  the  forces  that  inspired  men  to  moral  conduct.    Man- 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        105 

kind  has  been  left  for  the  moment  without  any  tangible 
bfiSis  for  moral  responsibility.  There  has  been,  we  are  re- 
minded daily,  an  alarming  increase  in  moral  laxness  in 
certain  directions.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  building 
a  newer  and  truer  foundation  which  links  the  duty  to 
God  Avith  the  duty  to  man  as  a  basis  of  man's  conduct. 
It  is  Tolstoy's  teaching,  which  he  took  from  the  words  of 
Christ  himself,  that  is  the  religion  of  the  "progressive" 
church  today.  For  only  insofar  as  the  church  adopts  the 
service  of  man  as  its  foundation  can  it  keep  abreast  of  the 
social  movement.  The  struggle  of  the  new  idea  is  evident 
in  every  denomination.  Even  Catholicism,  that  great 
stronghold  of  ceremony  and  belief  in  the  miraculous,  is 
shaken  to  its  foundations  by  a  "modernist"  movement. 
Doubtless  the  church  will  maintain  its  position  as  the  dom- 
inant expression  of  man's  reverence.  But  other  powers — 
the  drama,  for  instance — will  stand  side  by  side  with  it  as 
an  inspiration  to  moral  conduct  and  as  a  regenerating 
force.  To  put  the  sense  in  different  form,  the  new  re- 
ligion— the  religion  not  of  God  alone  but  of  God  and  man — - 
will  not  find  its  outlet  solely  through  the  church. 

It  has  been  said  that  an  honest  religion  is  the  noblest 
work  of  man.  Truly,  spiritual  satisfaction  is  a  craving 
that  must  be  satisfied  if  the  social  structure  is  to  last.  And 
the  only  satisfying  basis  of  religion  is  the  recognition  of  a 
relation  between  God,  or  the  infinite,  or  whatever  you  choose 
to  call  it,  and  humanity.  AVithout  that  spirit  of  reverence 
which  has  been  the  glory  of  the  churches,  no  religion  can 
stand.  But  Tolstoy  builds  up  the  new,  not  by  destroying 
the  reverence  of  the  old,  but  by  adding  to  that  reverence 
a  significance  which  has  been  hidden  since  Christ's  own 
time.  He  preserves  the  undefiled  root  of  Christianity,  but 
strips  it  of  all  its  later  forms  and  superstitions;  he  clothes 
it  with  an  ethical  code  and  a  moral  meaning  that  bring  it 
into  definite  relation  with  modern  knowledge  and  reason, 
and  therefore  to  the  service  of  humanity. 

If,  as  some  claim,  Tolstoy  sets  up  in  non-resistance  a 


106 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 


superstition  of  his  own  that  is  either  fallacious  or  so  ideal- 
istic as  to  be  of  no  use  to  the  complex  world,  the  false  light 
is  so  dim  as  not  to  affect  the  illuminating  quality  of  his 
religious  teaching  as  a  whole.  A  few  years  before  Tolstoy's 
death,  Lloyd  wrote :  ' '  Alone  in  that  remote  country  house 
the  aged  and  revered  figure  lingers,  a  challenge  in  his  own 
person  alike  to  the  tyrants  of  Russian  orthodoxy  and  to 
the  tj^rants  of  the  world's  materialism."*^ 

Indeed  Tolstoy  is  the  prophet  of  the  new  Christianity, 
his  writings  the  embodiment  of  the  whole  trend  of  modern 
religion.  His  value  to  religious  reconstruction,  to  the  spirit- 
ual basis  of  every  phase  of  social  reconstruction,  is  such 
that  the  world  cannot  measure  it. 


Value  of 
Economic 
Remedy 


No  matter  to  what  degree  the  world  improves  politically 
and  religiously,  the  great  problem  of  poverty  will  remain 
practically  untouched  until  there  is  a  mighty  economic 
change.  The  placing  of  government  in  the  hands  of  the 
people,  and  the  attainment  of  religious  enthusiasm  and  a 
spirit  of  brotherly  love,  are  essential,  but  the  backbone  of 
the  social  movement  is  in  practical  relief  based  on  a  desire 
for  economic  justice. 

Tolstoy's  remedy  as  it  concerns  man's  material  life  is 
summed  up  in  three  precepts :  fulfill  the  human  duty  of 
laboring  with  the  hands  in  the  struggle  for  bread;  own  no 
land  or  money;  and,  in  the  division  of  labor,  with  con- 
scious self-sacrifice,  do  only  that  work  which  is  for  the 
good  of  all  men,  and  which  men  demand. 

By  the  ' '  human  duty  of  labor ' '  Tolstoy  means  that  every 
human  being  should  contribute  something  to  the  supply  of 
food,  clothing,  and  shelter  in  the  world.  Not  only  must 
each  man  produce  that  by  which  men  live,  but  he  must 
also  contract  his  own  consumption  to  the  point  of  bare 
subsistence,  and  must  wait  on  himself  as  far  as  possible 
in  order  to  avoid  enslaving  other  men. 


•41  Two  Eussiau  Reformers,  p.  319. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        107 

Insofar  as  the  teaching  is  meant  for  idlers  it  is  doubt-  Fallacy  of 
less  sound.  But  to  appl.y  the  doctrine  to  modern  workers  Teaching  **' 
would  be  to  bring  our  entire  complex  industrial  machinery 
to  a  standstill.  For  the  whole  organization  depends  on  each 
man  doing  a  certain  thing  well — which  thing  may  not  pro- 
duce any  kind  of  cloth  or  bread  in  itself  but  may  serve 
to  allow  another  man  to  produce  a  living  for  a  dozen  men. 
Certainly  the  existing  system,  in  spite  of  its  terrible  faults, 
has  brought  mankind  nearer  to  world  abundance  and  world 
justice  than  ever  before;  humanity  cannot  afford  to  obey 
Tolstoy's  injunction  to  return  to  individual  ''bread-labor." 

We  may  well  wish  that  every  man  would  put  some  time 
every  day  on  physical  labor.  But  the  gain  we  see  is  to 
the  bodily  health  of  the  individual,  and  not  to  the  produc- 
tiveness of  the  world.  Aylmer  IMaude  aptly  says :  ' '  Tol- 
stoy's  bootmaking  was  of  more  value  as  a  spiritual  sedative 
than  it  was  as  a  contribution  to  the  solution  of  the  economic 
problem."*-  The  same  writer  makes  an  illuminating  com- 
ment on  Tolstoy's  plea  for  bare  subsistence,  when  he 
answers  to  Tolstoy's  "Consume  as  little  as  possible,"  "Con- 
sume only  what  adds  to  your  efficiency. ""^^ 

Tolstoy's  second  precept  is  that  a  man  must  not  own  Land  and 
land  or  money.  Community  ownership  of  land  is  the  bone 
of  contention  in  the  Socialist  world  today,  and  happily  even 
the  Socialists  are  turning  away  from  the  belief  that  all 
land  must  be  held  in  common.  The  world  recognizes  that 
the  foundation  unit  of  civilization  is  the  home,  and  that  any 
system  which  denies  to  a  man  a  "home  place"  will  be  a 
failure.  What  the  economic  reformer  must  oppose  is  not 
the  private  ownership  of  land  in  use,  but  the  ownership 
of  idle  land,  thus  striking  at  the  roots  of  land  monopoliza- 
tion and  land  speculation.  Some  modification  of  Henry 
George's  "single  tax"  plan  is  doubtless  the  tool  that  the 
social  movement  will  use :  a  plan  that  will  drive  idle  land 
into  use,  or  at  least  out  of  the  hands  of  speculation  and 


Money 
Ownership 


■i-  The  Life  of  Tolstoy,  ii,  347. 
^3  Ibid.,  ii,  282. 


108  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

monopoly,  by  shifting  the  entire  tax  from  labor,  or  im- 
provement, or  any  form  of  production,  to  the  value  of  land 
computed  on  a  basis  of  natural  productiveness  and  increase 
through  social  forces  such  as  proximity  to  city  or  railroad. 
This  system  would  not  only  help  to  put  a  home  within 
the  reach  of  every  worker,  but  would  put  a  premium  on 
further  production.  Such  a  solution  of  the  land  problem 
presupposes  an  accompanying  solution  of  the  problems  of 
"big  business"  through  community  ownership  of  public 
utilities  and  government  control  and  regulation  of  factory 
and  other  production — reforms  which  are  slowly  but  in- 
evitably coming. 

While  Tolstoy  did  plead  for  community  ownership  of 
land,  he  went  so  far  in  later  life  as  to  say  that  provided 
men  had  to  continue  to  live  under  governments,  the  single- 
tax  plan  seemed  the  best  solution.  Yet  through  his  later 
life  he  continued  to  encourage  his  followers  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  "Tolstoy  colonies,"  communistic  ventures,  all 
of  which  failed.  Every  visitor  to  these  colonies  carried  away 
the  same  impression  of  the  serious  purpose  and  sincerity 
of  the  colonists ;  but  the  principles  of  no-government  and 
no-property  were  fundamental  faults  that  made  success 
impossible. 

Money  derives  all  its  evil  power,  according  to  Tolstoy, 
from  the  violence  that  is  used  by  the  governments  to  en- 
force payments.  He  disposes  of  the  matter  by  disposing 
of  governments.  So  he  has  no  answer  to  help  the  reformer 
solve  the  problems  of  capital  which  society  must  meet  today. 
"Own  no  money"  is  his  precept  to  everyone.  But  money 
must  be  used  and  therefore  must  be  owned  by  individual 
people  or  groups  of  people.  Doubtless  Tolstoy's  further 
answer  would  have  been,  "If  you  must  have  governments, 
let  them  own  the  money."  And  that  is  what  the  world 
is  coming  to,  in  a  sense.  That  is,  in  time  the  people  will 
make  such  laws  that  the  government  will  control  and  regu- 
late the  use  of  capital  to  such  an  extent  that  what  money 
remains  in  large  sums  in  private  hands  will  have  to  be 


Division 
of  Labor 


1912]      Cheneij:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        109 

considered  as  a  trust  from  the  people  to  be  used  in  the 
service  of  the  people. 

Tolstoy's  third  precept  is  that  each  man  shall  con-  Tolstoy's 
sciously  sacrifice  himself  to  the  community's  good  by  doing 
that  sort  of  work  which  society  demands.  He  sees  that 
there  is  a  true  and  just  division  of  labor,  but  he  does  not 
acknowledge  that  any  division  can  justify  a  man  in  freeing 
himself  from  "bread-labor"  entirely;  every  man  must  put 
some  hours  each  day  in  the  actual  production  of  food, 
clothing  and  shelter,  must  wait  on  himself,  and  must  do  a 
certain  part  of  the  disagreeable  work  of  the  world.  But 
after  that  he  may  devote  himself  to  some  specialized  form 
of  help:  as  a  doctor,  as  a  teacher,  as  an  engineer,  as  an 
artist,  or  as  any  other  kind  of  worker  who  aids  humanity. 
But  in  his  division  of  labor  Tolstoy  does  not  recognize  that 
class  of  men  who  are  working  chiefly  with  their  brains  to 
increase  the  productiveness  of  the  world  and  to  expedite 
the  distribution  of  products:  the  inventor,  the  organizer, 
the  tradesman  and  those  other  groups  that  make  up  the 
great  middle  class.  He  recognizes  very  clearly  the  preda- 
tory rich  and  the  struggling  poor.  The  fallacy  goes  back 
again  to  the  distrust  of  organization  and  to  the  ignorance 
of  complex  conditions.  He  fails  to  see  that  the  world  may 
be  saved  by  organizing  for  the  very  purpose  of  giving  every 
man  a  fair  living.  He  does  not  see  that  intelligence  may 
be  so  used  in  systematizing  industry  and  production  that 
there  may  be  a  surplus  of  wealth  which  will  reach  every 
member  of  society.  He  is  ready  to  throw  aside  all  the  great 
achievement  of  modern  invention  and  co-operation,  because 
the  poor  have  not  been  relieved  and  new  evils  have  been 
introduced. 

Doubtless  the  great  increase  in  wealth  has  not  brought 
justice  to  the  poor,  and  the  disregard  for  the  sanctity  of 
human  life  in  industry  and  trade  is  terrible  ;**  but  the  way 
justly  to  distribute  that  wealth  is  not  to  destroy  it,  nor  will 


4-4  Cf.  Arno  Dosch,  "Just  Wops,"  Everyhody's  Magazine,  xxv,  579- 
89   (Nov.  1911). 


1 


110  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

the  stopping  of  the  industrial  machines  decrease  the  sum 
total  of  human  deaths.  The  true  road  to  justice  is  in  per- 
fecting, not  in  destroying,  the  system.  The  middle-class 
worker,  striving  to  increase  efficiency  and  to  eliminate  waste 
in  the  production  and  distribution  of  wealth,  is  entirely 
necessary  to  the  w^orld. 

As  an  instance  of  the  scientist  in  the  division  of  Ifibor, 
Tolstoy  takes  the  doctor.  Under  the  present  false  division, 
he  says,  the  doctor  only  serves  those  who  can  pay  large 
fees,  and  has  brought  nothing  to  the  alleviation  of  the 
distress  of  the  poor.  His  answer  for  the  doctor  is  that  he 
shall  live  among  the  poor  and  serve  them  for  such  return 
as  they  offer.  The  indictment  comes  strangely  to  our  ears, 
since  we  live  in  communities  where  doctors  serve  all  and 
so  often  charge  according  to  the  purse  of  the  patient,  where 
free  clinics  are  always  at  hand,  and  where  the  greatest 
plagues  and  the  most  devastating  diseases  are  all  but  under 
control.  There  are  unfortunately  doctors  who  serve  mam- 
mon, just  as  there  are  waiters  and  teachers  and  clergymen. 
But  the  doctor  collectively  is  a  true  benefactor  of  the 
whole  race,  and  science  has  brought  much  to  the  rebuilding 
of  the  social  structure.  Medicine  in  the  future  will  be 
largely  preventive  and  constructive,  just  as  engineering 
will  be  increasingly  constructive.  We  must  put  Tolstoy's 
indictment  down  to  that  fallacy  which  came  from  half- 
knowledge  and  prejudice.  His  answer  to  scientists  can 
have  no  value  to  reconstruction, 
"^'aiue  of  The  discussion  of  the  division  of  labor  leads  naturally 

Art^ Teaching  ^^  ^^^  Consideration  of  Tolstoy's  answer  as  it  concerns  art 
and  culture.  Tolstoy  recognizes  clearly  that  art  is  a 
humanizing  force,  and  that  it  satisfies  a  craving  in  man 
which  the  satisfaction  of  hunger  and  spiritual  desire  cannot 
set  aside.  Pie  believes  that  sincere  art  is  wholly  necessary 
to  the  masses.  His  book  What  Is  Art?  (the  seeds  of  which 
are  to  be  found  in  What  Is  To  Be  Done?)  is  not,  as  so  many 
critics  claim,  a  renunciation  of  art. 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Doncf"        111 

He  does  deny  the  value  of  that  false  and  meretricious 
art  which  is  produced  only  for  the  rich.  "What  Tolstoy 
conve3's  is  this :  to  the  extent  to  which  art  gives  pleasure 
to  the  corrupt  taste  of  the  idle  rich,  and  of  all  others  cor- 
rupted by  our  falsely-ordered  society,  it  condemns  itself  as 
bad  and  false.  "*^  The  rich  have  lost  the  true  view  of  life, 
and  so  of  art,  and  a  meretricious  art  has  sprung  up,  to 
satisfy  them.     This  art  Tolstoy  would  destroy. 

But  there  is  a  true  art.  To  quote  Tolstoy's  words :  "Art 
is  a  human  activity,  consisting  in  this,  that  one  man  con- 
sciously, by  means  of  certain  external  signs,  hands  on  to 
others  feelings  he  has  lived  through,  and  that  other  people 
are  infected  by  these  feelings,  and  also  experience  them."'*'' 
"In  our  age  the  common  religious  perception  of  men  is 
the  consciousness  of  the  brotherhood  of  man — we  know  that 
the  well-being  of  man  lies  in  union  with  his  fellow-men.  .  .  . 
Art  should  transform  this  perception  into  feeling.  The 
task  of  art  is  enormous.  Through  the  influence  of  real  art, 
aided  by  science  guided  by  religion,  that  peaceful  co- 
operation of  man  which  is  now  obtained  by  external  means — 
by  our  law-courts,  police,  charitable  institutions,  factory 
inspection,  etc.- — should  be  obtained  by  man's  free  and 
joyous  activity.  Art  should  cause  violence  to  be  set 
aside.  .  .  .  The  task  for  Christian  art  is  to  establish 
brotherly  union  among  men."^^  The  entire  argument  is 
that  art  is  valuable  only  insofar  as  it  carries  a  message 
and  infects  men  with  the  desire  for  justice  and  truth. 
Whatever  the  critics  may  say,  and  however  much  the  fol- 
lowers of  "art  for  art's  sake"  may  revolt,  the  world  is 
accepting  the  fundamental  part  of  Tolstoy's  teaching,  over- 
looking his  overstatements  for  the  sake  of  the  true  message 
behind  them.  And  doubtless  the  art  world  is  profiting  by 
the  doctrine;  and  art  is  aiding  in  the  social  reconstruction. 


••5  J.  C.  Kenworthy,  Tolstoy:  His  Life  and  WorJcs  (London,  Scott, 
1902),  pp.  102-3. 

46  Tolstoy,  IVhat  Is  Art?  translated  by  A.  Maude  (New  York, 
Scribner,  1904),  p.  43;  cf.  ibid.,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston, 
Estes,  1904),  p.  181. 

<T  Ibid.,  pp.  183-4  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  342-4). 


112 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 


Tolstoy   and 

Modern 

Education 


Value    of 
Answer 
to  Women 


For  a  new,  though  small,  company  of  writers,  painters,  and 
dramatists,  has  joined  the  humanitarian  army,  bringing  as 
their  special  qualifications  sincerity,  simplicity,  and  brevity. 
The  new  social  message,  clothed  in  beauty,  is  reaching  over 
all  the  world;  and  art,  however  slowly,  is  at  once  helping 
the  people  to  social  justice  and  taking  its  place  as  an  ex- 
pression of  the  people's  life.  The  impulse  of  the  move- 
ment goes  back  in  some  measure  to  Tolstoy's  book  What 
Is  Art?,  which  is  simply  an  enlargement  of  the  answer  set 
forth  in  What  Is  To  Be  Done? 

Tolstoy  believed  that  the  object  of  all  intellectual  pur- 
suits should  be  the  same :  to  carry  the  message  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man  and  to  teach  men  how  to  live  better. 
He  found  himself  at  outs  with  modern  methods  of  educa- 
tion. He  truly  claimed  that  the  young  are  compulsorily 
educated  to  many  untruths,  and  that  false  ideals  and 
standards  are  set  up  as  idols.  Fearing  that  those  who 
spend  so  many  years  in  preparation  might  not  use  their 
training  for  the  good  of  humanity,  he  even  went  so  far 
as  to  question  the  value  of  higher  education  at  all.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  argue  the  answer.  The  world  long  ago 
made  up  its  mind  that  education  is  worth  while  for  the 
many,  even  if  a  few  misuse  the  fruits  thereof.  The  only 
way  to  cure  the  great  social  evil  of  ignorance  is  by  com- 
pulsory education.  Just  as  in  the  case  of  the  political 
system,  and  in  the  production  and  distribution  of  wealth, 
the  remedy  for  educational  evils  is  in  further  organization 
rather  than  in  destruction  of  the  educational  machine.  If 
the  schools  and  universities  are  now  hindrances  to  social 
betterment,  carry  the  doctrines  of  social  justice  into  them. 
There  is  no  better  place  to  fight  false  ideals  of  wealth,  of 
pleasure,  and  of  selfishness. 

Tolstoy's  answer  to  women  is  exactly  that  of  the 
majority  of  social  reformers :  that  a  woman  need  only  not 
evade  childbearing  in  order  to  fulfill  life's  purpose.  Bear- 
ing, nursing  and  bringing  up  children  form  her  first  and 
great  duty  to  society.    The  limitation  of  births  through  the 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        113 

continence  of  married  people,  and  the  prevention  of  mar- 
riage of  unfit  men  and  women,  when  these  things  are 
founded  on  a  sense  of  duty  to  the  coming  generation,  are 
points  on  which  Tolstoy  is  strangely  silent — since  he  studied 
so  deeply  the  whole  of  the  sex  question.  They  are  points 
which  will  increasingly  engage  the  attention  of  students  of 
human  destiny.  The  theory  has  even  been  advanced  that 
duty  to  the  unborn  generations  will  form  the  basis  of  the 
new  morality — to  take  the  place  of  that  crumbling  basis  of 
fear  of  punishment  after  death  and  hope  of  reward  in 
heaven.  But  Tolstoy's  voice,  as  it  is  heard  in  What  Is  To 
Be  Done  f,  will  remain  one  of  the  many  which  simply  praise 
the  fruitful  mother  who  shuns  the  vanities  of  society  life 
and  the  call  of  "woman's  rights.''  His  answer  is  of  small 
value  to  the  world  as  a  whole,  as  obviously  it  Avas  aimed 
at  the  women  of  his  own  leisure-loving  class.  That  he  com- 
pleteh'  changed  his  views  on  the  sex  question  within  a  few 
years  after  writing  the  book*^  also  lessens  what  weight 
the  argument  might  have. 

Prostitution  is  a  crime  of  man  as  much  as  of  woman,  vaiue  of 
but  the  discussion  of  Tolstoy's  answer  to  women  is  a  con-  Remedy  for 
venient  peg  on  which  to  hang  the  consideration  of  the  value 
of  his  remedy  for  that  evil.  The  first  value  of  his  treatment 
of  the  problem  is  in  his  attitude  of  pity  rather  than  scorn, 
and  in  his  frankness.  He  was  the  first  author  of  inter- 
national importance  to  attack  the  evil  openly,  and  he 
brought  to  the  world  the  realization  that  ignorance  of  the 
evil  is  not  a  virtue.  He  caught  all  of  society  in  the  net 
of  guilt. 

Truly  we  are  all  of  us  in  a  conspiracy  to  spread  pros- 
titution.*^ In  the  first  place  we  teach  the  young,  girls 
and  boys,  to  seek  riches  above  all  else,  and  that  life  without 


*8  For  Tolstoy's  later  ideal  of  absolute  chastity,  cf.  the  epilogue 
to  The  Kreutser  Sonata,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes, 
1904),  and  "The  Sex  Question,"  in  Maude,  Tlie  Life  of  Tolstoy, 
ii,  380-414. 

40  Cf.  Jane  Addams,  A  Neiv  Conscience  and  an  Ancient  Evil 
(New  York,  Macmillan,  1912). 


114  U^iiversity  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

work  is  the  happiest  state;  then  we  arrange  our  economic 
system  so  that  thousands  of  girls  w^ork  in  factories  and 
stores  for  pitiful  wages  at  just  that  period  of  life  when 
they  should  have  rest;  we  allow  them  to  work  to  such  ex- 
haustion that  chastity  can  mean  little  to  them,  when 
weighed  against  the  allurements  of  immorality;  in  those 
years  when  they  most  crave  social  companionship  and 
recreation,  we  offer  them  no  substitute  for  the  attentions 
of  the  "cadet."  The  guilt  comes  back  to  us — to  the  great 
mass  of  men  and  women  who  are  content  with  social  con- 
ditions because  the  economic  shoe  does  not  happen  to  pinch 
us.  The  increase  in  prostitution  is  not  due  to  lustfulness 
in  the  hearts  of  girls,  but  to  the  child-labor,  the  long  hours, 
and  the  insufficient  wage,  which  we  permit.  Chastity  gives 
way  under  economic  pressure.  The  remedy  for  prostitu- 
tion is  not  in  ignoring  or  arresting  the  prostitute,  but,  as 
Tolstoy  first  taught,  in  the  revolution  of  economic  condi- 
tions. Besides  those  changes  already  outlined,  the  forces 
that  will  cut  off  the  supply  for  prostitution  (if  we  care 
enough  and  help  enough)  are  these:  the  abolishment  of 
child-labor — there  is  no  more  pathetic  sight  in  the  world 
today  than  the  army  of  pinched  child-laborers  beside  the 
tattered  army  of  adult  unemployed ;  the  securing  of  a  fair 
wage  and  shorter  hours  for  women  who  must  work  outside 
the  home;  the  extension  of  playground  and  park  sj^stems; 
the  establishment  of  social  centers  and  settlements ;  and 
the  socializing  of  religious  institutions.  These  thing's,  com- 
ing in  that  triple  reconstruction  of  political,  religious  and 
economic  life,  will  reduce  prostitution  to  a  negligible  evil; 
but  as  Tolstoy  charges,  any  of  use  who  refuse  to  take  part 
in  the  social  movement  are  members  of  a  conspiracy  to 
create  that  evil;  nor  has  anyone  with  ej-es  the  excuse  of 
ignorance. 

Before  summarizing  the  value  of  Tolstoy's  remedy,  it 
is  well  to  show  how  the  fallacies  of  his  teaching  prevented 
him  from  carrying  out  his  own  precepts;  how.  indeed,  he 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        115 

was  able  to  make  some  of  his  teachings  effective  only  in 
so  far  as  he  departed  from  others. 

In  the  first  place  he  failed  to  leave  his  direct  impress  xoistoy's 
on  political  life  in  Russia,  or  to  change  the  cruel  autocracy  ^^.'^^re 
that  oppresses  the  country.     The  secret  of  his  failure  is  Reformer 
that  he  withdrew  from  any  movement  as  soon  as  it  became 
political  or  organized  in  any  way.    He  could  see  no  remedy 
but  immediate  abolishment  of  government,  and  even  a  move- 
ment with  that  drastic  end  in  view  became  distasteful  if 
it  involved  organized  effort. 

Similarly  he  failed  to  bring  lasting  help  for  economic 
wroDgs  in  Russia.  A  man  of  Tolstoy's  wonderful  force, 
backed  by  an  organized  movement,  could  have  revolution- 
ized the  industrial  system.  But  instead  Tolstoy  could  see 
relief  only  in  the  destruction  of  all  sj'^stems,  and  he  pre- 
ferred to  remain  independent  and  uncompromising  in  his 
single-handed  battle. 

In  the  spread  of  his  religious  beliefs  Tolstoy  was  ef- 
fective only  to  the  extent  to  which  he  departed  from  his 
own  teachings.  His  desire  to  convert  others  and  his  force- 
ful, assertive  nature  were  in  direct  contrast  to  his  desire 
to  be  humble  and  peaceable  to  all.  The  conflict  between 
the  two  desires  not  only  brought  struggle  to  his  own  soul, 
but  it  drew  him  apart  from  his  family  time  and  again. 
The  attitude  of  his  wife  is  largely  that  of  the  world.  One 
day  after  she  had  posted  a  letter  to  him  in  which  she  ex- 
pressed her  sorrow  and  vexation  at  his  new  way  of  life, 
she  wrote  a  second  letter  containing  this  passage:  "All  at 
once  I  pictured  you  vividly  to  myself,  and  a  sudden  flood 
of  tenderness  rose  in  me.  There  is  something  in  you  so 
wise,  kind,  naive,  and  obstinate,  and  it  is  all  lit  up  by 
that  tender  interest  for  everyone,  natural  to  you  alone,  and 
by  your  look  that  reaches  straight  to  people's  souls. "^° 
In  that  is  the  expression  of  the  feeling  not  only  of  the 
Countess  but  of  every  one  of  the  students  of  Tolstoy's 
work — reverence    and    even   personal   love    for   the    man. 


50  In   Maude,  The  Life  of  Tolstoy,  ii,  197. 


116  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

mingled  with  impatience  at  the  obstinacy  and  childlike 
simplicity  of  his  views. 

Writing  to  her  sister  in  the  period  between  the  census 
investigation  and  the  composing  of  What  Is  To  Be  Done? 
the  Countess  said  of  Tolstoy :  ' '  Lyovochka  is  very  tranquil, 
and  at  work  writing  some  article  or  other.  Remarks  against 
town  life,  and  the  life  of  the  well-to-do  in  general,  burst 
from  him  occasionally.  That  pains  me  but  I  know  he  can- 
not help  it.  He  is  a  leader:  one  who  goes  ahead  of  the 
crowd,  pointing  the  way  men  should  go.  But  I  am  the 
crowd;  I  live  in  its  current.  Together  with  the  crowd  I 
see  the  light  of  the  lamp  which  every  leader  (and  Lyov- 
ochka, of  course,  also)  carries,  and  I  acknowledge  it  to 
be  the  light.  But  I  cannot  go  faster,  I  am  held  by  the 
crowd,  and  by  my  surroundings  and  habits.  "^^ 

Tolstoy's  own  wife  has  put  the  case  for  us,  for  the 
crowd,  who  are  not  martyrs,  who  may  see  the  light  but 
who  cannot  go  so  fast.  And  there  is  the  pathetic  failure 
of  Tolstoy's  life  as  a  practical  guide — he  keeps  so  far 
ahead  of  the  crowd.  He  wants  the  world  to  revolutionize 
immediately,  and  he  makes  an  example  of  himself,  think- 
ing that  the  world  "wdll  follow.  But  that  is  not  the  way 
of  humanity ;  social  progress  is  evolutionary  and  slow. 

Summary  of  With  that  fundamental  fallacy  in  mind  let  us  sum- 

marize the  value  of  Tolstoy's  remedy  for  humanity's  evils, 
as  expressed  in  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  His  answer  as  it 
concerns  government  and  political  reconstruction  is  worth- 
less, except  that  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance  to  criminals 
has  influenced  prisons  to  adopt  the  "golden  rule"  system, 
and  has  led  humanitarians  to  put  less  effort  on  the  punish- 
ment of  crime  and  more  on  the  providing  of  good  influences. 
His  answer  as  it  concerns  man's  religion  and  ethics  is  of 
the  utmost  value  to  the  religious  phase  of  social  reconstruc- 
tion; indeed  Tolstoy  may  be  considered  the  great  modern 
prophet  of  the  new  Christianity.    Plis  answer  as  it  concerns 


Value  of 
Remedy 


51  In  Maude,  The  Life  of  Tolstoy,  ii,  175. 


I 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoifs  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        117 

man's  material  life  has  doubtless  influenced  economic  re- 
construction, but  there  are  fallacies  in  his  precepts  which 
require  large  modifications  to  make  them  fit  the  problems 
of  present-d&y  complex  life.  His  answer  as  it  concerns 
art  and  culture  is  sound  at  the  core  and  he  perhaps  has 
done  more  than  any  other  writer  to  bring  art  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  social  movement.  Lastly,  his  answer  to  women 
is  of  passive  value  as  one  of  many  voices  calling  women 
to  their  first  duty — but  an  answer  that  does  not  attempt 
to  solve  the  deeper  phases  of  the  sex  problem. 

Such  is  the  value  of  Tolstoy's  remedy  to  the  present 
rebuilding  of  the  social  structure.  Like  all  great  men  Tol- 
stoy had  great  faults,  and  they  are  nowhere  more  noticeable 
than  in  his  answer  to  the  question,  "What  is  to  be  done?" 
But  there  is  so  much  of  truth  there,  that  the  student  who 
refers  the  teachings  to  his  reason  and  conscience,  as  Tolstoy 
would  desire,  finds  the  book  a  mine  which  produces  much 
pure  gold. 


118 


University  of  California  Prize  Essays  [Vol.  1 


CHAPTER  VII 


CONCLUSION 


The 

Problem 

Universal 


Effort   for 
Social  Justice 


If  it  be  objected  at  this  late  time  that  Tolstoy  was  at- 
tempting to  remedy  conditions  in  Russia  and  that  his  work 
can  have  nothing  to  do  with  problems  in  the  United  States, 
the  writer  can  only  lay  down  his  pen  and  plead  that  he 
has  entirely  missed  his  mark.  But  if  he  has  made  clear 
what  every  social  worker  must  feel,  he  has  carried  the 
truth  that  the  fundamental  problem  of  misery  is  the  same 
in  Moscow^  or  London,  or  Paris,  or  New  York.  Conditions 
may  differ,  but  the  roots  of  poverty  and  disease  and  crime 
are  the  same  in  all  lands.  It  should  be  clear  now  that 
Tolstoy  went  to  the  very  bottom  of  human  life  and  treated 
the  very  foundations  on  which  social  justice  and  injustice 
are  built.  Here  in  the  United  States  we  have  no  peasant 
class,  but  we  have  a  class  of  industrial  workers  that  occu- 
pies exactly  the  same  place  in  the  social  scale.  We  have 
the  same  rich  class  that  so  disgusted  Tolstoy  in  Russia; 
and  if  it  must  be  added  that  the  class  is  less  idle  as  a 
whole  in  America,  it  must  also  be  added  that  it  is  more 
predatory.  Until  recently,  as  in  Russia,  almost  all  our 
charities  have  been  "only  a  fad  or  a  sop  to  fear." 

But  now,  after  Tolstoy,  and  after  his  lesser  comrades 
in  the  first  battle,  there  is  a  well-defined  union  of  forces 
working  for  social  justice,  an  unmistakable  effort  to  rebuild 
the  social  structure  from  the  ground  up.  All  the  alleviative 
and  constructive  movements  are  as  j^et  only  symptomatic 
of  the  universal  and  combined  movement  that  is  gradually 
taking  shape.  The  air  is  not  yet  cleared  of  confused  cries 
and  alarms.  But  the  rebuilding  is  coming — clearly,  in- 
evitably coming.     Call  it  socialism,  or  humanitarianism,  or 


1912]      Che7icu:  Tolstorj's"What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        119 

what  yon  will,  humanity  is  destined  to  a  change,  which 
if  rightly  directed  means  absolute  social  justice.  It  is 
coming  through  that  spirit  of  universal  sympathy  which 
is  sweeping  all  lands.  No  live,  thinking  mind  can  read  a 
book  like  What  Is  To  Be  Donef  without  being  infected  with 
this  spirit,  which  is  the  soul  of  the  social  movement,  with- 
out seeing  the  existing  injustice  and  feeling  the  inspiration 
to  work  for  a  cure.  Happily  it  is  an  infection  that  is  fast 
spreading  throughout  the  world.  Day  by  day  the  convic- 
tion is  gaining  weight  that  there  is  a  common  social  destiny 
for  all  men,  and  that  cooperation  must  take  the  place  of 
ruinous  competition ;  and  beyond  that  there  is  a  growing 
sense  that  the  sanctity  of  human  life  is  greater  than  the 
sanctity  of  wealth — that  wealth  is  a  means  and  life  the  end. 

In  the  United  States,  at  least,  the  danger  of  a  class 
struggle  is  past;  fortunately,  since  the  collapse  of  a 
nation  is  usually  near  when  politics  becomes  a  class 
struggle.  The  movement  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a  humani- 
tarian army  which  includes  far  more  than  the  laboring 
class.  Doubtless  there  will  be  more  labor  strikes,  but 
neither  labor  nor  capital  will  settle  the  matter  by  itself.  A 
greater  force  will  remove  the  causes  of  contention.  The 
change  will  come  not  through  individual  change,  as  Tolstoy 
hoped,  nor  by  class  struggle,  as  he  feared;  but  by  educa- 
tion and  the  peaceable  legislation  of  the  people  when  they 
have  gained  complete  self-government.  In  the  United 
States  it  will  come  not  through  the  socialist  party  but 
through  the  old  parties  which  are  so  inevitably  taking  up 
socialistic  platforms. 

The  waiter  has  picked  flaws  in  parts  of  Tolstoy's 
remedy.  Lest  he  be  accused  of  simply  judging  the  work 
by  set  standards  of  his  own,  of  repudiating  just  those  doc- 
trines which  do  not  square  with  his  own  prejudices,  he 
submits  without  excuse  his  position.  In  the  first  place  he 
followed  Tolstoy's  own  injunction  to  readers,  by  referring 
every  teaching  to  his  own  reason  and  conscience.  He  must 
confess  that  before  reading  V\liat  Is  To  Be  Done?  he  had 


120  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

no  deep  interest  in  the  social  movement — being  one  of  that 
great  mass  of  apathetic  people  who  are  content  with  things 
as  they  are.  So,  with  no  set  social  outlook,  he  made  an 
attempt  to  get  a  birdseye  view,  in  true  perspective  of  all 
the  social  forces  concerned  in  the  present  rebuilding.  This 
he  has  made  the  second  test  of  Tolstoy's  teachings.  In  out- 
lining these  forces  the  writer  does  not  at  all  presume  to 
put  forward  a  social  program,  but  merely  a  survey.  These, 
then,  are  the  forces  which  he  believes  are  accomplishing 
the  great  change : 
A  First  there  will  be  such  change  in  land  ownership  that 

Social  every  family  will  be  able  to  have  a  home ;  land  monopoly 

SurvGy 

and  land  speculation  will  be  destroyed,  and  idle  land  will 
be  driven  into  use;  the  tool  which  will  be  used  to  accom- 
plish this  will  be  tax  legislation — probably  a  modification 
of  Henry  George 's  plan.  There  will  be  ultimate  municipal, 
state  and  government  ownership  of  all  public  utilities. 
There  will  be  government  regulation  of  factory  and  other 
production :  on  the  one  hand  the  regulation  of  hours,  wages, 
liability  or  insurance,  and  old-age  pensions ;  on  the  other 
regulation  of  income;  thus  capital  (or  machinery)  in  pri- 
vate hands  can  be  so  regulated  that  it  will  be  used  for 
the  welfare  of  all,  and  the  stifling  of  production  will  be 
destroyed.  The  great  fortunes  will  be  gradually  broken 
up  through  income  and  sliding  inheritance  taxes.  With 
these  economic  changes  there  must  be  an  increasing  power 
of  government  in  the  hands  of  all  the  people.  The  ten- 
dency toward  this  attainment  of  pure  democrac}^  is  most 
plainly  seen  in  the  recent  widespread  adoption  of  the  initi- 
ative, referendum  and  recall.  In  order  that  economic  and 
political  justice  may  be  lasting,  there  must  also  be  that 
individual  religious  regeneration,  which  Tolstoy  so  insisted 
upon.  The  duty  of  man  to  man  must  be  the  basis  of 
morality.  The  building  up  of  moral  fiber  will  continue 
especially  through  the  regenerated  churches,  the  drama, 
literature,  and  social  and  civic  centers.  Through  this  triple 
reconstruction,  economic,  political  and  religious,  the  evolu- 


1912]      Cheney:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"        121 

tion  is  working  and  will  work  for  some  decades.  But 
the  movement  is  started  and  is  advancing  to  the  ideal  faster 
than  a  reformer  of  fifty  years  ago  could  have  dared  to 
hope — to  that  time  when  no  workman  will  be  so  crushed 
by  the  struggle  for  bread  that  he  cannot  enjoy  the  higher 
pleasures,  and  when  no  girl  will  be  so  driven  by  work 
and  want  that  she  loses  her  moral  perspective.  Truly  the 
world  is  drawing  away  from  ignorance  and  poverty  and 
crime  and  disease,  to  enlightenment  and  health  and  all 
that  is  wholesome  and  beautiful. 

"We  have  seen  in  the  past  chapters  of  what  value  the   „ 

'■  ^  Nummary 

various  parts  of  Tolstoy's  book  are  to  the  movement  toward  of  Vaiue 
this  ideal — what  the  picture,  what  the  diagnosis,  and  what  ""^  ^^^  ^°°'^ 
the  various  teachings  of  the  remedy.  Then  let  us  see 
what  is  the  total  value  of  the  book.  In  the  first  place  it 
served  to  raze  the  old  structure  and  prepared  the  way  for 
the  new.  It  awakened  the  world  to  social  injustice,  and  it 
cast  a  light  into  the  "dreadful  dark."  Above  all  it  struck 
an  inspirational  chord  which  still  vibrates  throughout  the 
world,  and  which  finds  an  echo  in  every  reader.  There  are 
serious  flaws  in  the  economic  and  political  aspects  of  the 
constructive  remedy  which  it  outlines,  but  the  religious 
teaching  is  sound  through  and  through.  If  it  fails  occa- 
sionally as  a  guide,  at  least  as  an  inspiration  it  is  beyond 
compare.  Certainly  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  more  than  any 
other  modern  book,  has  given  that  spirit  and  impulse  which 
is  the  soul  of  the  social  movemeni. 

At  no  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  there  been 
so  great  an  unrest  among  the  nations,  socially,  religiously, 
politically.  Humanity  is  facing  a  great  upheaval,  is 
already  feeling  the  trembling.  In  the  midst  of  the  con- 
fusion, of  struggles,  of  seekings  for  the  safety  of  this  atom 
or  that,  stands  the  huge  figure  of  Tolstoy,  pointing  the 
Avay  to  safety  for  the  whole,  colossal  in  his  destruction  of 
old  ideals,  and  magnificent  in  his  sincerity  and  passion  for 
the  new — mighty,  too,  in  his  human  faults.     But  his  mis- 


122  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

takes  are  in  the  superstructure,  and  the  foundation  he 
builds  is  on  solid  rock.  He  faced  a  world  entrenched  in 
apathy  and  deceit,  but  he  kindled  the  fire  which  spread 
throughout  the  world  and  destroyed  the  false  temples  of  the 
existing  social  order.  He  even  went  further  and  utilized  the 
heat  to  begin  the  building  of  the  new.  Will  there  be  build- 
ers worthy  to  follow  him?  The  writer  believes  there  will; 
and  if  so,  the  writing  of  What  Is  To  Be  Done?  will  not 
have  been  in  vain. 


i 

I 


THE  VALUE  OF  THE  IDEAL  OF  SOCIAL  RECON- 
STRUCTION SET  FORTH  IN  TOLSTOY'S 
WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  THENf 


STITH  THOMPSON, 
A.B.   (University  of  Wisconsin),  1909;  M.A.,   1912 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I.     THE  NEED  TOR  SOCIAL  RECONSTRUCTION 

What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  must  be  considered  as  a  serious 
proposal  for  social  reconstruction. — Before  approaching  the  study 
of  the  book,  it  must  be  determined  how  far  there  is  need  for  social 
reconstruction. — Tolstoy's  findings  must  be  checked  by  conditions 
in  other  countries  than  Russia  and  discounted  by  changes  for  the 
better  through  political  and  conservative  social  reform. — Tolstoy's 
indictment  of  social  conditions. — Among  the  city  poor. — Among  the 
country  poor. — Among  the  wealthy. — Causes  of  misery. — Money. — 
Selfishness. — Separation  of  rich  from  poor. — Enslaving  of  country 
people  by  rich  city  people. — Exorbitant  taxes. — Examination  of 
these  causes. — Summary  of  real  causes  of  misery  that  remain. — 
Comparison  of  American  conditions  with  Russian,  showing  the 
effect  of  political  and  conservative  social  reform. — Summary  of  chap- 
ter. Page  126 
CHAPTER  II.     THE  BASES  OF  A  SOCIAL  SYSTEM 

The  necessity  that  an  efficient  social  system  embrace  all 
phases  of  human  life  and  minister  to  all  human  needs. — The  nature 
of  these  needs,  desires,  and  qualities  of  men. — The  physical  neces- 
sities.— Health. — Perpetuation  of  the  race. — Economy  and  efficiency. 
— Justice. — Security  of  life  and  property. — Ambition. — Dislike  and 
inconvenience  of  change. — Comfort. — Amusement. — Intellectual  and 
aesthetic  activity. — The  desire  for  truth. — Religion.  Page  137 

CHAPTER  in.  THE  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  SOCIAL  IDEAL 
Impracticability  of  attainment. — System  must,  nevertheless,  be 
considered. — Tolstoy's  plan. — No  government. — No  property  or 
money. — No  division  of  labor  without  unanimous  consent. — No 
science,  art  or  education,  as  at  present  conceived. — The  morals  and 
philosophy  of  his  system. — Application  of  his  system  to  the  tests 
suggested  in  Chapter  II. — Physical  necessities. — Health. — Perpetua- 

[124] 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoij's  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  125 

tion  of  the  race. — Economy  and  efficiency. — Justice. — Security  of 
life  and  property. — Ambition. — Dislike  and  inconvenience  of  change. — 
Comfort. — Amusement. — Intellectual  and  aesthetic  activity. — Desire 
for  truth. — Religion. — Summary  of  results. — Comparison  vrith  other 
systems. — Present  American  conditions. — Socialism. — Conservative 
social  reform. — Result  of  comparison.  Page  142 

CHAPTER  IV.     TOLSTOY'S  FUNDAMENTAL  ERRORS 

His  system  founded  on  three  premises. — Examination  of  these. — 
His  argument  against  government. — Not  sacred. — Not  useful. — 
Wicked. — Discussion  of  these  points. — Majority  rule. — Convenience 
and  economy  of  government. — The  army  and  police. — Summary  of 
refutation. — Argument  against  ownership  of  property. — Not  an 
issue  between  common,  or  government  ownership,  and  private  owner- 
ship— for  non-ownership  as  a  principle. — Practical  difficulties  of 
a  life  without  government  or  property. — Non-ownership  as  a  prin- 
ciple examined. — The  abstract  question. — The  moral  aspect. — 
Money. — Argument  against  division  of  labor  without  unanimous 
consent. — Economy,  he  contends,  not  the  end. — Division  right  only 
when  special  service  is  really  needed. — This  point  granted,  but 
different  interpretation  put  on  need  for  service. — Present  division 
really  regulated  by  demand. — Majority  rule  insisted  upon. — 
Economy  of  division  of  labor  absolutely  necessary. — Tolstoy's 
special  attack  on  science  and  art  as  a  division  of  labor. — Tolstoy's 
test  of  the  service  of  scientists  and  artists. — Work  must  be  under- 
stood and  wanted  by  people  at  large. — Great  scientists  were  the 
Christs  and  Buddhas. — These  arguments  examined. — These  men 
neither  wanted  nor  rightly  understood. — Science  must  remain  unin- 
telligible to  the  layman  if  advance  is  made. — Does  not  effect  results. — 
Experimental  and  inductive  science  defended. — Science  a  real  bene- 
factor.— Science  spreads  truth. — Tolstoy's  argument  applied  to  art 
and  literature. — Real  service  of  art  and  literature.  Page  156 

CHAPTER  V.     THE  RE.AL  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  ESSAY 

System     of     social     reconstruction     inefficient. — Real     value     lies 

in   suggestive  power   of   essay. — A   plea   for   the   man   who   toils. — 

A   challenge   to   old   and   established   institutions. — A   demand   that 

things  be  tested  by  their  real  worth.  Page  173 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  NEED  FOR  SOCIAL  RECONSTRUCTION 

Although  the  chief  value  of  Tolstoy's  vivid  and  revolu- 
tionary essay,  What  Shall  We  Do  Then  ?^  is,  without  doubt, 
its  moral  and  ethical  appeal,  it  must  be  judged  quite  as 
much  by  the  standard  its  author  proposes  for  it.  This  is 
as  a  serious  ideal  of  social  reconstruction.  "We  see  in  the 
essay  the  final  form  into  which  Tolstoy's  social  theories 
were  thrown  after  years  of  meditation  and  change.  Except 
in  a  few  minor  points,  the  position  stated  in  this  essay  was 
the  one  held  by  the  author  for  the  last  twenty-five  years  of 
his  life.  A  careful  examination  of  the  ideal  of  social  recon- 
struction set  forth  by  a  man  who  influenced  his  generation 
so  profoundly  cannot  but  be  of  profit.  Such  a  study  will 
doubtless  result  in  new  points  of  view,  if  not  in  a  complete 
change  of  settled  opinions  about  conditions  and  policies. 

In  the  examination  of  any  social  ideal,  several  prelimin- 
ary considerations  must  enter.  The  slow  changes  that  have 
taken  place  in  the  past  must  act  as  a  warning  to  those  who 
hope  by  legislation  to  make  a  new  world  with  ideally  happy 
men  and  women.  These  slow  changes  are  painful  and  are 
often  accomplished  at  the  greatest  personal  sacrifice  to  the 
martyrs  of  the  cause.  It  is  absolutely  necessary,  therefore, 
before  the  adoption  of  any  social  ideal,  to  examine  whether 
the  undesirable  conditions  that  exist  at  present  are  inher- 


1  Tolstoy,  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  translated  by  Isabel  Hapgood. 
(New  York,  Crowell,  1899)  ;  cf.  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  translated 
by  Loo  Wiener  (Boston,  Dana  Estes,  1904).  References  are  made 
uniformly  to  these  two  translations. 

[126] 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"  127 

ent  in  the  present  social  system,  or  whether  there  seems  to 
be  reason  to  believe  that  great  improvements  have  been 
made  in  the  past  in  these  respects,  and  to  hope  from  very 
certain  indications  that  they  will  be  ameliorated  and  very 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  done  away  with  ultimately  under  the 
present  system.  If  this  latter  conclusion  be  reached,  the 
plea  for  a  changed  social  ideal,  involving,  as  that  of  Tol- 
stoy does,  revolution  with  all  its  wastes  and  experiment 
with  its  uncertainty,  becomes  very  much  weakened  if  not 
entirely  invalidated. 

Tolstoy's  ideal  will  be  approached  in  this  way  and  an 
attempt  will  be  made  to  determine  how  far  a  new  ideal  is 
now  desirable.  Afterward,  some  consideration  will  be  given 
to  those  elements  in  human  nature  with  which  the  social  re- 
former must  reckon  in  the  construction  of  his  ideal  state. 
Tolstoy 's  ideal  will  then  be  tested  by  the  conclusions  reached 
and  later  the  three  fundamental  principles  on  which  the 
system  is  based  will  be  examined.  Lastly  some  observations 
will  be  made  on  the  message  of  the  essay  aside  from  its 
social  ideal. 

In  the  approach  to  Tolstoy's  essay  attention  must  be 
directed  to  the  miserable  social  conditions  that  he  depicts, 
and  then  by  comparing  these  with  the  conditions  found  under 
the  same  social  and  economic  system  of  Capitalism  but 
under  a  different  political  system,  as  in  the  United  States, 
conclusions  can  be  drawn  as  to  how  far  political  reform, 
doing  away  with  monarchy  and  aristocracy,  with  the  en- 
lightenment for  the  laborer  resulting  from  these  changes, 
tends  to  eliminate  the  wrongs  that  Tolstoy  sees  in  Russia. 
Only  the  evils  that  still  exist  in  a  country  where  political 
reform  has  taken  place,  in  a  country  like  the  United  States 
or  England,  can  be  of  weight  in  the  proposal  or  considera- 
tion of  a  revolutionary  social  programme. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  pictures  of  extreme  poverty 
in  Moscow  which  Tolstoy  draws  for  us-  are  true  to  the 
minutest  detail.     Twenty  thousand  persons,  he  shows,  go 


2  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  chapters  i-xi. 


128  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

hungry  there  every  day.  Over  one  hundred  thousand  are 
living  in  the  greatest  poverty.  The  filth  and  squalor  of  the 
free  and  cheap  lodging  houses  is  almost  indescribable.  Such 
a  condition  must  act  as  a  great  ulcer  on  the  body  of  the 
civilization  that  suffers  it  to  exist.  Tolstoy's  many  efforts 
to  administer  efficient  charity  to  these  miserable  people  gave 
him  a  good  opportunity  to  observe  them.  His  conclusion 
was  that  temporary  charity,  except  in  the  fewest  of  in- 
stances, was  of  doubtful  good.  Nearly  all  of  the  poor  were 
making  a  strong,  though  discouraging  and  often  miserable, 
fight  for  existence.  They  helped  one  another  in  great 
crises.  Three  classes  alone  formed  a  center  that  needed 
the  help  of  charity :  children,  who  might  be  given  a  helping 
hand  and  taken  to  something  better ;  prostitutes,  who  might 
conceivably  be  rescued  from  their  wretched  life;  and  men 
who  had  formerly  had  good  positions  and  had  lost  them. 
These  wanted  aid  to  get  on  their  feet  again.  In  trying 
to  help  all  of  these  people  he  was  unsuccessful.  The  chil- 
dren became  thieves,  the  prostitutes  did  not  want  to  be 
reformed,  and  the  men  who  were  given  a  helping  hand  fell 
again  and  again. 

But  the  largest  part  of  the  poor  in  the  city  are  beyond 
the  help  of  temporary  charity.  Nothing  short  of  a  great 
social  reformation  can  touch  them.  They  are  managing  to 
keep  just  above  the  starvation  limit  by  working  at  full 
capacity.  The  great  factories  of  the  citj--  start  their  Avheels 
at  five  in  the  morning  and  cease  only  at  eight  at  night.  The 
life  of  these  people  is  that  of  the  most  galling  slavery,  llie 
whip  being  held  this  time  by  no  less  grim  a  driver  than 
starvation.  This  is  the  condition  of  all  the  factory  hands 
in  Moscow — the  people  who  do  practically  all  the  productive 
labor. 

These  conditions  were  greatly  aggravated  after  the  free- 
ing of  the  serfs  and  the  consequent  crowding  into  the  cities. 
So  strong  is  the  temptation  to  come  to  the  city  for  various 
reasons,  good  and  bad,  that  every  few  days  the  starving 
countrymen  who  find  no  work  in  the  overcrowded  town  are 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  129 

herded  together  by  the  police  and  sent  back  to  the  country. 
Many  of  the  men  in  distress  whom  Tolstoy  saw  at  Liapin's 
house^  were  waiting  for  this  police  round-up  as  for  a 
blessed  deliverance. 

But  what  were  the  country  homes  to  which  these  people 
were  looking  forward?  This  is  the  darkest  part  of  Tol- 
stoy's picture.  Out  in  the  open  country,  where  we  think 
of  people  as  being  free  and  of  every  man  as  able  to  make 
a  good  living,  we  find  people,  strong  young  men,  feeble  old 
men,  women,  many  of  them  sick  and  with  child,  and  little 
children,  working  late  and  early — rising  long  before  the  light 
of  day  and  working  far  into  the  night,  to  grow  the  crop  and 
to  save  it.  Thousands  of  these  people  every  year  die  from 
overwork.  Not  a  smaller  number  die  yearly  from  starva- 
tion in  the  country.  After  all  this  slaving  work  not  enough 
can  be  saved  for  their  own  needs  to  support  bare  existence. 
Judging  from  other  sources,  we  must  say  that  Tolstoy  is 
decidedly  conservative  in  his  description  of  the  distress  in 
the  country. 

To  these  conditions  a  striking  contrast  is  found  in  the 
lives  of  the  extremely  wealthy.  Tolstoy  paints  with  a  pow- 
erful brush  the  excesses  to  which  the  luxury  of  the  rich 
can  go.  Fine  ladies  giving  balls  in  gowns  worth  more 
than  one  hundred  times  the  labor  they  could  do,  hiring 
large  numbers  of  servants,  each  of  them  in  his  turn  using 
up  productions  of  another's  labor,  are  but  typical  of  the 
luxury  of  the  rich.  Country  homes,  private  hunting  pre- 
serves, servants  in  the  country  and  the  city,  all  come  from 
the  labor  of  the  peasant. 

And  what  do  the  rich  give  in  return  for  all  this  support 
by  the  starving  poor?  The  great  majority,  Tolstoy  shows, 
do  absolutely  nothing.  Some  of  them  serve  the  govern- 
ment, which  the  peasant  does  not  want.  A  few  men  of 
leisure,  though  not  of  wealth,  also  spend  their  time  in  scien- 
tific research,  trying  by  various  methods  to  justify  the 
present  pernicious  conditions. 


3  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  10  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  11). 


130  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

The  causes  of  these  wrongs  still  exist  and,  according  to 
Tolstoy,  will  continue  to  produce  and  to  aggravate  these 
conditions.  We  shall  have  to  examine  these  causes  and  see 
whether  they  are  correctly  determined  and  whether  they 
are  an  inherent  part  of  our  present  system. 

The  existence  of  money,  Tolstoy  says,  is  the  whole  cause 
of  the  modern  slavery.  He  gives  a  very  interesting  account 
of  the  evolution  of  money.  It  came  into  being  solely  as  a 
convenient  means  of  enslaving.  Personal  slavery  and  even 
serfdom  caused  difficulties  for  the  primitive  conqueror  and 
consequently  some  other  means  of  enslaving  had  to  be  in- 
vented. Money,  which  was  easy  to  carry,  and  which  rep- 
resented the  result  of  labor  without  troubling  the  primitive 
conqueror  to  see  that  the  labor  was  done,  was  finally  adopted 
as  the  most  convenient  form  of  paying  tribute.  The  de- 
fense for  money  that  it  is  a  standard  of  value  and  a  medium 
of  exchange  is  merely  the  invention  of  economists  made 
for  the  purpose  of  justifying  its  existence.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  value  is  always  what  the  lord  chooses  to  put 
on  it.  Hence  even  today  money  is  a  means  of  enslaving. 
It  is  handed  down  from  lord  to  lord  and  vsdth  this  thing 
in  their  hands  these  lords  can  make  other  men  labor  for 
them  and  can  take  food  from  other  men.  It  is  a  slavery 
worse  than  serfdom,  for  now  no  guarantee  is  made  to  the 
man  we  compel  to  work  for  us  that  he  will  be  allowed  to 
live.    He  may  be  deprived  of  work  and  be  left  to  starve. 

The  cause  of  these  conditions  coming  about  in  the  first 
place  was  a  moral  one,  which  Tolstoy  insists  must  be  re- 
moved. It  is  the  desire  to  be  worked  for  and  not  to  work. 
It  is  this  that  makes  for  all  the  injustice  that  the  rich  put 
on  the  poor. 

As  a  result  of  this,  the  rich  have  withdrawn  themselves 
into  cities  where  they  may  be  well  removed  from  the  poor 
who  do  their  work.  Here  they  may  find  conditions  exactly 
suited  to  their  desires.  Luxuries  may  be  had  for  the  asking. 
Companions  in  this  dissipation  are  easy  to  find,  and  servants 
are  numerous.     The  further  separation  from  the  poor  is 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  131 

accomplished  in  three  ways,  which  are  therefore  to  be  con- 
demned. The  first  of  these  is  cleanliness,  which  makes  us 
keep  away  from  the  dirty  poor;  the  second  is  education, 
which  is  obtained  merely  that  we  may  continue  in  idleness, 
and  which  to  many  is  synonymous  with  cleanliness.  Last  of 
these  differences  is  an  aloofness  in  food  and  dress. 

The  rich  city  people  have  enslaved  the  country  peasant. 
Every  year  the  things  the  peasant  needs  for  himself  are 
taken  away  and  carried  to  the  city  by  those  who  enslave 
him  through  the  possession  of  money.  He  goes  to  town 
to  try  to  get  some  of  it  back  from  those  who  have  taken 
it  from  him.  Hence  we  have  thousands  of  these  poor,  de- 
termined, by  fair  means  or  foul,  to  get  a  living  from  the 
rich.  It  is  these  unfortunates  who  fill  the  cheap  lodging 
houses,  or,  failing  that,  at  most  become  the  retainers  of  the 
rich,  serving  them  and  imbibing  from  a  distance  their  ideals 
of  idleness  and  luxury. 

The  last  of  these  causes  of  the  misery  of  the  common 
people,  which,  Tolstoy  shows,  spring  directly  from  the 
use  of  money,  are  exorbitant  rents,  to  keep  up  the  nobility ; 
conscription,  to  keep  up  a  disaffected  army;  and  excessive 
taxes,  to  support  a  luxurious  court  and  aristocracy. 

Such  is  Tolstoy's  statement  of  the  conditions  in  Russia, 
and  his  theory  of  the  causes  of  this  distress.  This  theory 
it  will  be  well  to  examine,  to  the  end  that  we  may  see  which 
are  real  causes  and  which  are  peculiarly  Russian.  Those 
that  w^e  find  real  must  be  the  concern  of  him  who  plans  an 
ideal  society. 

The  history  given  by  Tolstoy  of  the  development  of 
money  is  exceedingly  interesting,  but  this  development  was 
surely  nothing  more  than  an  incidental  feature  of  the  use 
of  money.  We  shall  see  later*  that,  in  spite  of  what  he 
says,  money  is  a  real  good  and  an  actual  necessity,  and 
that  the  troubles  of  man  have  come  from  the  abuse  of 
monev  rather  than  from  its  use. 


•*  Chapter  iv  of  this  essay. 


132  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

The  second  of  the  causes  of  injustice  mentioned  by 
Tolstoy  is  a  moral  fault.  From  the  beginning  of  time  man 
has  been  a  selfish  animal  and  in  many  ways  this  selfishness 
has  not  been  a  bad  thing.  Indeed  some  go  so  far  as  to  say 
that  all  our  acts,  good  and  bad,  are  actuated  by  no  other 
principle  than  selfishness.  One  of  the  first  and  most  marked 
manifestations  of  this  instinct  is  the  failing  which  Tolstoy 
deplores  and  which  he  says  is  the  most  destructive  thing 
in  our  present  manner  of  living.  It  is  the  desire  to  work 
less  and  to  be  worked  for  more.  The  whole  plan  for  social 
reform  made  in  What  Sliall  We  Do  Tlienf  is  based  on  the 
assumption  that  we  shall  be  able  to  overcome  this  tendency, 
and  consequently  no  provision  is  made  to  reckon  with  it. 
In  an  efficient  social  system  such  a  failing  must  be  recog- 
nized and  dealt  with.  It  must  always  continue  as  an  active 
cause  of  trouble.  Stronger  methods  than  those  of  exhor- 
tation are  necessary. 

In  his  arraignment  of  the  rich  for  separating  themselves 
from  the  poor,  Tolstoy  is  not  quite  just.  Many  of  them, 
it  is  true,  live  in  the  city  where  there  is  opportunity  for 
social  intercourse  with  their  own  class,  and  for  many  other 
amusements.  For  luxury  and  idleness,  certainly,  there  is 
no  defense.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  there  is  good 
reason  for  many  people  of  wealth  to  live  in  the  city.  The 
work  of  such  men  lies  nearly  always  in  large  centers  of 
industry  where  great  capital  is  necessary.  In  the  case  of 
officials,  their  center  of  activity  is  generally  in  the  city 
and  they  usually  congregate  there  for  other  motives  than 
those  purely  of  pleasure.  But  much  of  Tolstoy's  point 
here  may  well  be  granted,  and  in  so  far  as  the  motive  for 
flocking  to  the  cities  is  due  to  a  desire  to  escape  responsi- 
bility for  their  actions  and  to  receive  commendation  for 
that  idleness  and  luxury  for  which  they  should  be  con- 
demned, no  word  of  defense  can  be  made. 

The  other  "means  of  separation"  mentioned  by  him 
are  not  so  culpable.  By  cleanliness  the  rich  remove  them- 
selves from  the  poor,  says  he,  regarding  as  a  great  virtue 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"   133 

what  in  reality  is  a  great  shame.  He  seems  to  think  that 
cleanliness  has  only  this  use.  He  forgets  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  if  we  are  to  prevent  sickness  and  if  our 
lives  are  to  have  wholesome  surroundings.  Indeed  this  is 
a  virtue  that  is  rightly  placed  next  to  godliness.  Instead 
of  condemning  cleanliness  in  the  rich,  we  must  strive  by 
every  means  to  inculcate  this  virtue  in  the  poor,  so  that 
they  will  desire  to  get  away  from  the  squalor  of  the  tene- 
ment and  go  to  the  country  and  the  suburbs  where  they 
can  have  clean  and  healthful  homes.  Surely  that  which 
keeps  away  sickness,  that  which  distinguishes  care  from 
slovenliness,  cannot  be  classed  as  one  of  the  greatest  of 
vices! 

Education,  for  Tolstoy,  is  largely  synonymous  with 
cleanliness  plus  a  little  French  or  mathematics.  This  is 
obtained  with  the  sole  purpose  of  leading  and  justifying  a 
life  of  idleness.  Fortunately,  this  conception  is  wrong. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  generally  a  lack  of  education  that 
aggravates  the  differences  between  the  classes.  Here,  too, 
the  rich  must  not  stop  their  education,  but  the  poor  must 
come  toward  the  rich  and  get  more  and  more  of  this,  the 
greatest  of  all  destroyers  of  the  barriers  between  the  classes. 
Of  the  removal  by  food  and  dress  more  can  be  granted. 
Long  dinners,  served  in  many  courses  to  people  in  expensive 
clothes,  must  be  looked  on  as  a  luxury  the  poor  cannot,  and 
never  can  afford.  But  there  is  room  for  refinement  and 
taste  both  in  the  manner  of  eating  and  in  the  kind  of 
clothes  worn.  Tolstoy  seems  to  look  upon  the  eating  from 
a  common  bowl  and  the  wearing  of  a  dirty  shirt  as  things 
most  of  all  to  be  desired.  Would  it  not  be  better,  as  seems 
to  be  the  case  in  America,  for  the  poor  to  emulate  the  rich 
sufficiently  to  practice  most  of  the  amenities  that  make  life 
other  than  that  of  the  brute?  Is  it  not  a  healthy  state  of 
society  when  nine-tenths  of  the  people  are  dressed  with 
neatness  and  taste? 

These  methods  of  removing  themselves  from  the  poor 
practiced  by  the  rich  are,  as  a  rule,  we  see,  commendable 


134  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Yoh.  i 

in  themselves.  The  effort  should  be  made  to  draw  the  poor 
up  toward  the  rich,  not  to  pull  the  rich  dow^n  to  the  level 
the  poor  now  occup3^ 

A  very  large  part  of  Tolstoy's  essay  is  based  on  the 
assumption  that  the  country  people  are  held  in  slavery  by 
the  townspeople  who  consume  the  substance  of  the  country 
in  riotous  living.  This  argument  is  faulty  in  several  re- 
spects. Under  the  rule  of  exorbitant  taxes  and  rents  it 
is  conceivable  that  this  might  be  almost  literally  true,  but 
we  are  considering  the  matter  exclusively  from  a  social 
point  of  view.  In  the  United  States  it  cannot  be  said  that 
the  farmer's  substance  is  taken  from  him  by  the  wealthy 
in  the  city.  For  every  commodity  brought  in,  an  equal 
amount,  either  of  money  or  of  manufactured  goods,  is  taken 
out  to  the  countr}'.  No  exchange  where  full  value  is  re- 
ceived can  be  said  to  be  commercial  slavery.  The  existence 
of  cities  as  such  cannot,  then,  be  said  to  be  a  menace.  What 
the  city  takes,  it  repays,  by  manufacturing,  by  affording  a 
market,  by  collecting  goods  from  all  over  the  earth,  and 
by  many  other  services.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  if  there  were 
no  real  need  for  the  city  it  would  not  have  grown  up  in 
our  new  western  civilization. 

That  our  cities  are  crowded  with  the  poor  who  ape  the 
rich  is  too  largely  true,  though  a  marked  back-to-the-land 
movement  seems  to  be  of  some  influence  in  America. 

The  exorbitant  taxes  and  rents  and  the  army  conscrip- 
tion that  Tolstoy  mentions  have  been  done  away  with  almost 
entirely  in  America.  Their  remedying  must  be  a  matter 
of  political  rather  than  of  social  reform. 

After  an  examination  of  the  reasons  Tolstoy  gives  for 
the  present  conditions,  we  have  reduced  them  to  the  fol- 
lowing: (1)  The  existence  of  money  which  has  not  been 
earned  by  the  possessor,  either  because  of  inheritance,  for- 
tuitous investment,  fraud,  or  oppression.  The  existence  of 
money  other  than  this  is  good  rather  than  bad.  (2)  The 
separation  of  the  rich  from  the  poor  because  of  the  desire 
to  work  little  and  be  worked  for  much.     (3)  The  separation 


1912]  ThompsoH:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"   135 

by  means  of  luxuries  and  servants.  (4)  Too  great  a  move- 
ment toward  the  city  by  the  poor  who  ape  the  rich. 

All  of  these  causes  are  at  work  in  our  American  civil- 
ization and  therefore  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  result  of 
political  tyranny.  Let  us  examine  their  influence  on  Amer- 
ican civilization  and  see  which  of  the  conditions  portrayed 
as  resulting  from  them  are  purely  social  in  their  character. 

The  condition  of  the  poor  in  America  is  undoubtedly 
much  better  than  that  of  the  poor  in  Russia.  We  have 
practically  no  real  poverty  in  the  country  districts.  The 
poorest  of  the  negro  farmers  in  the  south  have  little  trouble 
in  making  a  living.  Consequently  we  have  practically  no 
deaths  from  overwork  in  the  country.  In  cases  of  extreme 
hard  work,  we  shall  generally  find  that  there  is  some  other 
purpose  in  view  than  to  stay  off  starvation.  Two  political 
causes  have  brought  about  this  condition:  low  rents  and 
reasonable  taxes.  Instead  of  ninety  per  cent  of  the  people 
living  in  great  need  and  danger  of  starvation,  we  find  the 
whole  rural  population  in  comparatively  safe  circumstances. 

Our  social  system,  however,  has  much  to  answer  for. 
Our  cities  are  far  from  what  we  could  desire.  One  has 
but  to  read  Mr.  Jacob  Riis  's  How  the  Other  Half  Lives'^  to 
see  the  distressing  conditions  in  the  tenements  of  New  York. 
Sights  can  be  seen  in  this  port  of  entry  for  the  "scum  of 
the  earth, ' '  as  we  call  them,  that  rend  the  heart  of  the  most 
unsjnnpathetic.  The  unsanitary  tenements  often  cause  a 
death  rate  of  100  per  1000.  In  every  way  the  story  told 
by  Tolstoy  of  Moscow  seems  to  be  doubly  true  in  New  York. 
Miss  Jane  Addams®  tells  us  that  the  same  state  of  affairs 
prevails  in  Chicago,  and  it  is  entirely  probable  that  there 
is  not  a  city  of  any  size  that  does  not  have  a  tenement  dis- 
trict, or  at  least  a  poor  quarter  that  is  a  disgrace  to  our 
civilization.  It  is  needless  to  go  into  details  as  to  condi- 
tions in  our  great  cities,  except  to  say  that  it  is  difficult  to 
conceive  of  anything  worse  than  what  is  to  be  seen  among 


5  New  York,  Macmillan,  1892. 

6  Twenty  Years  at  Hull  House,  New  York,  Macmillan,  1910. 


136  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

the  extremely  poor.  Yet  this  class  is  as  a  drop  in  the  bucket 
to  the  class  of  workingmen  who  are  making  a  comfortable 
living.  The  slums  are  remarkably  free  of  American  fam- 
ilies, and  are  recruited  nearly  altogether  from  the  foreign 
classes  who  have  been  corrupted  by  undemocratic  govern- 
ments. It  is  conceivable  that  as  amalgamation  goes  on 
these  foreigners  may  be  willing  that  the  slums  be  made 
livable.  At  present  they  do  not  seem  to  wish  anything 
better. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  class  of  non-workers  in 
America  is  extremely  small  in  comparison  to  that  in  other 
countries.  Even  the  trust  magnate  puts  in  a  strenuous  day 
of  work.  The  idle  rich  are  daily  growing  in  disfavor.  One 
of  their  number  has  but  recently  written  a  book  on  The 
Passing  of  the  Idle  Rich,''  which  shows  rather  conclusively 
that  their  class  is  doomed.  As  a  rule  there  is  a  greater 
desire  in  America  than  elsewhere  to  do  one's  own  Avork, 
and  hence  there  is  much  less  service  than  in  Europe. 

Not  everything  in  regard  to  the  rich,  however,  is  so 
favorable  as  these  two  points.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
wealth  is  coming  every  year  more  into  the  hands  of  a  few 
men.  Fortunes  have  increased  within  the  past  few  years 
of  trust  activity  to  many  times  their  former  size.  The 
millionaire  is  now  a  common  thing.  More  than  one  thou- 
sand of  them  live  in  New  York  alone,  and  several  men  are 
approaching  the  billion  dollar  class.  Here  is  a  worse  con- 
dition, in  some  ways,  than  any  that  Europe  shows. 

Among  the  evils,  then,  that  Tolstoy  mentions,  which 
have  been  done  away  with  by  political  and  conservative 
social  reform,  are  exorbitant  rents,  exorbitant  taxes,  idle 
aristocracy,  a  great  number  of  idle  rich,  and  poverty  in  the 
country. 

The  chief  evils  in  this  free  country  that  remain  to  be 
remedied  are  the  concentration  of  the  poor  in  slums,  and 
the  evil  conditions  of  these  slums,  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on 


^  Frederick  Townsend  ^fartin,  The  Passing  of  the  Idle  Rich,  New 
York,  Doubleday,  Page,  and  Co.,  1911. 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?''  137 

the  other,  the  concentration  of  wealth  in  the  hands  of  a 
few  men.  On  this  groundwork  of  conditions  we  must  work 
toward  an  ideal  of  social  reconstruction. 

We  must  now  consider  the  bases  on  which  this  reform 
must  rest. 

CHAPTER  II 

THE  BASES  OF  A  SOCIAL  SYSTEM 

The  greatest  danger  to  which  the  social  reformer  is 
liable  is  the  overemphasis  of  some  fundamental  principle 
that  he  considers  all-important,  to  the  neglect  of  other 
things  that  occupy  a  definite  and  weighty  position  in  the 
social  organism.  In  order  that  we  may  be  able  to  judge 
with  some  accuracy  and  certainty  of  the  social  ideal  we 
have  under  consideration,  it  will  be  of  value  to  examine 
briefly  those  principles,  social  and  personal,  which  enter 
into  society  in  such  a  way  as  to  demand  the  attention  of 
the  man  who  would  form  a  social  ideal.  Most  of  the  prin- 
ciples to  be  mentioned  are  entirely  permanent  and  are  so 
well  recognized  that  they  will  be  admitted  on  all  sides. 
These  principles  fall  into  three  classes :  actual  needs  of 
mankind,  qualities  inherent  in  man,  and  things  greatly 
desired  by  all  men,  though  not  absolutely  essential  to  life. 

1.  Perhaps  the  most  fundamental  need  of  man  is  for 
protection  against  hunger,  cold,  and  storm.  Food  is  a 
necessity  under  all  conditions  and,  except  in  the  rarest  of 
instances,  clothes  and  housing  are  of  equal  importance. 
All  society  rests  on  the  basis  of  the  physical  needs. 

2.  Almost  as  important  as  food  and  clothing  is  health. 
It  is  a  necessity  from  economic  considerations  not  less  than 
from  those  of  comfort  and  pleasure.  Anything  that  is  a 
detriment  to  the  health  of  the  community  must  be  banished, 
and  everything  that  makes  for  the  improvement  and  pres- 
ervation of  the  health  of  mankind  should  be  welcomed  by 
the  social  idealist. 


138  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

3.  Much  of  the  difficulty  in  making  an  optimistic  eco- 
nomic forecast  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  population  is  rapidly- 
increasing.  No  system  can  leave  out  of  consideration  the 
perpetuation  of  the  race,  the  control  of  the  increase  in  popu- 
lation, and  the  means  whereby  future  generations  are  to 
be  made  better  and  happier.  A  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  science  of  eugenics  must  govern  the  social  body  in  this 
regard,  rather  than  the  schemes  of  social  theorists. 

4.  Following  directly  upon  the  need  for  the  supports  of 
life  is  the  principle  of  economy  in  production  and  efficiency 
in  labor.  On  this,  indeed,  the  whole  life  of  the  race  de- 
pends. Many  persons  hold  such  a  pessimistic  view  of  the 
increase  in  population  that  they  despair  of  a  living  for 
everyone  five  hundred  years  hence,  even  under  the  most 
economical  regime.  This  takes  into  consideration  the  strict- 
est economy  in  the  use  of  resources  and  the  greatest  amount 
of  production  possible.  Even  though  we  may  not  take  so 
dark  a  view  of  the  economic  future,  it  is  quite  certain  that 
it  is  of  the  first  importance  for  man  to  strive  in  every  way 
to  obtain  the  strictest  economy  of  production  and  the  great- 
est efficiency  in  labor  that  specialization  can  produce. 

5.  Hardly  of  less  importance  as  a  great  social  need  of 
man  is  justice,  under  which  are  included  many  needs,  all 
of  a  kindred  nature.  One  of  the  things  that  the  principle 
of  justice  allows  to  a  man  is  equality  of  opportunity.  It 
must  be  the  purpose  of  all  social  reform  to  bring  about  con- 
ditions where  the  opportunity  of  all  men  at  the  start  of  life 
is  equal,  for  this  is,  doubtless,  the  crux  of  the  whole  social 
problem.  In  every  way — by  education,  by  special  training, 
by  the  breaking  down  of  prejudice,  or  even  by  an  entire 
reconstruction  of  the  whole  social  system — this  ideal  must 
be  kept  in  front  of  us.  Under  the  principle  of  justice  also 
comes  the  demand  that  every  man  shall  be  rewarded  by 
society  in  direct  proportion  to  the  service  he  has  rendered. 
This  point  is  disputed  by  some  who  wish  equality  of  reward 
for  all  service,  but  the  position  seems  hard  to  maintain  that 
the  reward  shall  be  based  on  any  other  principle  than  ser- 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's'' What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"   139 

vice.  It  is  also  a  matter  of  justice  that  one  shall  have 
liberty  of  life  and  opinion,  since  most  thinking  men  agree 
that  these  rights  are  inviolable.  A  right  to  a  voice  in  the 
government  is  also  imperative  if  we  are  to  have  justice. 

6.  That  there  shall  be  security  for  one's  person  and 
property  has  been  one  of  the  chief  desires  of  man  from 
the  beginning  of  time.  Among  the  first  efforts  made  in 
the  upward  march  of  humanity  was  that  toward  the  pro- 
tection of  the  weak  from  the  strong  and  the  protection  of 
goods  from  seizure.  As  civilization  has  advanced,  security 
of  these  things  has  advanced  along  with  it.  It  is  the  boast 
of  our  civilization  that  a  weak  woman  may  travel  with 
safety  the  whole  length  of  the  continent  without  an  escort. 
It  is  only  necessary  to  picture  the  condition  of  the  high- 
ways of  England  a  century  ago  to  determine  whether  this 
change  be  toward  or  away  from  the  ideal.  In  countries 
where  there  is  lawlessness,  as  in  the  Central  American  re- 
publics, business  is  at  a  standstill,  and  the  countries  suffer, 
in  consequence,  enormous  economic  loss.  Security  within 
the  country,  then,  acts  directly  upon  the  great  principle 
of  economy.  But  perhaps  the  greatest  economic  loss  to  a 
country  is  due  to  the  lack  of  international  security.  If 
international  peace  is  ever  possible,  it  would  effect  the  great- 
est of  all  economic  savings.  We  can  at  least  hold  it  out  as 
a  social  ideal. 

There  are,  besides  the  actual  needs  of  man,  certain  in- 
herent qualities  that  are  quite  as  permanent  and  as  import- 
ant as  any  real  need  could  be. 

7.  An  almost  universal  quality  in  man  is  ambition. 
Nearly  all  men  desire  to  attain  a  little  more  of  the  thing 
the  heart  is  set  on.  Some  may  aspire  to  go  as  far  as  they 
can  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  hence  in  self- 
development  and  realization.  Other  men  may  be  ambitious 
to  see  their  part  of  the  country  develop,  wishing  to  make 
it  a  happier  place  to  live  in ;  or  they  may,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  desire  merely  to  reach  positions  of  independence. 
In  all  of  these  cases  it  is  hard  to  generalize  as  to  whether 


140  Vniversity  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

the  quality  be  good  or  bad.  It  is  quite  certain  that  am- 
bition to  make  money  has  been  the  cause  of  a  very  large 
proportion  of  the  improvement  in  machinery  and  in  other 
economic  savings.  Thus  the  end  has  been  good,  whether 
or  not  the  motive  that  actuated  the  work  was  to  be  com- 
mended. This  principle  has  been  the  motive  power  of  prac- 
tically all  the  material  improvement  of  the  human  race  and, 
as  such,  must  have  a  very  honorable  place  in  the  list  of 
human  qualities.  The  ambition  to  make  money,  however, 
at  the  cost  of  misery  for  those  below  us  must  meet  the  dis- 
approval of  society.  It  must  be  seen  whether  we  may  not 
keep  ambition  as  a  virtue  and  banish  it  as  a  vice. 

8.  The  natural  inertia  of  the  race  and  its  dislike  for 
change  in  the  existing  order  is  a  point  which  cannot  be 
slighted.  Under  equal  conditions,  that  social  ideal  which 
avoids  revolutionary  change  with  its  consequent  disturb- 
ances and  sufferings,  will  be  more  desirable  than  one  calling 
for  the  creation  of  a  new  and  strange  world. 

Besides  the  needs  of  man  and  his  inherent  qualities, 
there  are  several  personal  wants  that  are  not  brought  on 
by  bare  necessity.    Some  of  these  must  be  reckoned  with. 

9.  A  desire  for  comfort  has  been  a  force  that  has  actu- 
ated many  of  the  exertions  of  man.  A  large  number  of 
our  inventions  have  been  made  in  order  to  minister  to  this 
want.  Without  doubt,  that  system  will  be  best  which, 
other  things  being  equal,  gives  the  largest  amount  of  com- 
fort to  the  human  race. 

10.  "All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull  boy," 
wisely  says  the  proverb.  Even  Tolstoy  observes  that  every- 
one, even  the  extremely  poor,  has  several  hours  a  day  that 
must  be  filled  with  some  form  of  recreation.  For  most  of 
humanity  this  takes  the  form  of  amusement.  Not  a  small 
part  of  the  activity  of  every  city  is  directed  toward  the 
amusement  of  its  inhabitants.  Everything  that  adds  to 
the  real  pleasure  of  the  human  race,  so  long  as  it  be  not 
counterbalanced  by  the  bad  it  fosters,  must  be  subject  to 
the  approval  of  the  ideal  society. 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"  141 

11.  Not  a  little  of  the  energy  of  the  race  is  directed 
toward  the  satisfaction  of  the  desire  for  intellectual  and 
aesthetic  activity.  Aside  from  the  economical  use  to  which 
our  schools  are  put,  a  large  part  of  their  effort  is  directed 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  mere  yearning  of  man  to 
know  and  to  think.  It  is  quite  certain  that  the  man  who 
does  know  and  think  profoundly  lives  a  fuller  and  richer 
life  than  he  who  lives  in  ignorance.  And  quite  as  important 
are  those  arts  that  teach  us  to  cultivate  the  aesthetic  senses 
so  that  we  may  see  all  the  beauty  of  life. 

12.  Besides  the  desire  to  know  and  think  and  feel,  man 
has  had  a  strong  and  lasting  passion  toward  truth.  From 
the  earliest  times  philosophy  has  been  groping  among  wrong 
conceptions,  trying  to  reach  conclusions  that  were  true. 
And  though  it  may  not  always  be  apparent,  men  want  to 
know  the  truth.  They  may,  indeed,  keep  their  ears  closed, 
but  it  is  always  because  they  honestly  fear  that  they  will 
be  led  astray  by  the  fair  form  of  falsehood  masking  in  the 
robes  of  truth.  Philosophy  is,  then,  only  an  outgrowth  in 
this  natural  tendency  in  man.  Science,  too,  is  erected  on 
the  same  foundation.  It  is  the  sole  end  of  the  scientist 
that  he  shall  find  the  truth.  He  will  work  night  and  day 
over  intricate  problems  that  at  last  he  may  find  it.  And 
he  who  searches  after  truth  is  wise,  for  most  of  the  misery 
of  the  earth  has  been  caused  through  false  beliefs,  false 
scientific  deductions,  and  false  ideals. 

13.  It  is  said  by  some  that  there  are  no  peoples  so  low 
that  they  do  not  have  some  form  of  religion.  Certain  it 
is  that  the  greatest  part  of  the  human  race  have  something 
that  they  call  by  this  name.  But  we  must  distinguish 
between  the  primitive  religion,  based  on  fear  and  the  pro- 
pitiation of  a  deity,  thoroughly  independent  as  it  is  of  ideas 
of  duty,  and  modern  religion,  which  is  invariably  made  up 
of  belief,  duty,  and  worship.  Society  must  recognize  the 
desire  for  the  exercise  of  all  these  things  and  provide  for 
it.  Many  qualities  in  man  that  are  important  and  per- 
manent are  perhaps  really  a  part  of  the  religious  instinct. 


142  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  instinct  for  loyalty  to 
a  cause  or  a  man,  chivalry  of  man  toward  woman,  and 
patriotism.    Society  must  reckon  with  all  these  instincts. 

Doubtless  other  primary  needs,  desires  and  qualities  of 
mankind  might  be  thought  of,  but  for  practical  purposes 
they  can  be  referred  generally  to  one  of  the  classes  we  have 
discussed,  or  else  to  a  combination  of  two  or  more  of  them. 
These,  therefore,  form  a  working  basis  on  which  a  consid- 
eration of  social  ideals  must  rest. 

These  needs  and  attributes  of  man  are,  then,  as  we  have 
seen:  (1)  Protection  against  hunger,  cold,  and  storm. 
(2)  Health.  (3)  Perpetuation  of  the  race.  (4)  Economy. 
(5)  Justice.  (6)  Security.  (7)  Ambition.  (8)  Inertia 
and  dislike  of  change.  (9)  Comfort.  (10)  Amusement. 
(11)  Intellectual  and  aesthetic  activity.  (12)  True  con- 
ceptions of  things.  (13)  Religion.  Any  social  system 
is  strong  in  proportion  as  it  gives  room  for  the  development 
and  wise  direction  of  these  primary  needs  and  qualities  of 
man.  The  system  proposed  by  Tolstoy  will  be  tested  by 
this  standard. 

CHAPTER  III 

THE  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  SOCIAL  IDEAL 

In  treating  the  social  ideal  which  Tolstoy  holds  out  to 
us,  we  shall  have  to  indulge  him  to  a  large  extent  by  slight- 
ing any  consideration  of  how  such  a  state  of  affairs  is  to 
be  brought  about.  Yet  it  must  be  insisted  that  any  ideal 
that  does  not  take  into  consideration  sufficiently  the  question 
of  its  practical  adaptability  to  the  human  race  as  we  know 
it,  and  the  means  of  obtaining  its  adoption  by  the  race, 
must  be  looked  upon  as  lacking  in  the  power  desirable  in 
a  scheme  of  social  reconstruction.  It  must  be  said,  at  the 
beginning,  that  Tolstoy  does  not  tell  us  in  any  definite  way 
the  answer  to  the  question,  "What  shall  we  do  then?"  He 
seems  very  often  to  be  just  at  the  point  of  telling  us,  but 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstotj's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  143 

the  reader  is  generally  left  to  take  comfort  from  some  moral 
exhortation  which,  without  definite  direction,  leads  nowhere. 
We  must  leave  our  sinful  lives,  says  he,  and  work  with  our 
hands.  That  is  the  center  of  his  argument.  But  we  are 
not  told  of  any  system  whereby  such  asceticism  is  to  be 
made  the  basis  of  a  whole  social  sj'stem  and  not  lose  itself 
in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  members  of  a  strange  cult.  He 
thinks  that  if  one  man  goes  to  the  country  and  works  with 
his  hands,  another  and  then  another  will  be  seized  with  the 
enthusiasm  and  will  also  go  to  the  country  and  work  with 
his  hands  as  well.®  This  might  be  a  possible  supposition, 
but  no  provision  is  made  for  the  bringing  about,  by  this 
method,  of  the  ideal  conditions  he  wants.  No  plan  is  of- 
fered for  the  establishment  of  anarchy,  or  the  abolition  of 
private  property  or  for  any  other  of  the  bases  of  his  system. 
Indeed  it  is  quite  certain  that  if  the  best  men  of  the  nation 
became  farm  laborers,  the  hand  of  the  government  would 
become  stronger  and  stronger,  as  it  always  tends  to  do  when 
the  attention  of  the  real  leaders  of  thought  is  directed  into 
other  channels.  The  great  majority  of  men  will  never 
voluntarily  give  up  their  property,  and  this  seems  to  be  the 
only  means  of  attaining  non-ownership  that  is  suggested. 
It  is  to  reckon  without  one's  host  to  hope  for  such  a  moral 
revolution  in  mankind.  If  such  a  moral  revolution  should 
take  place,  the  nature  of  the  social  system  would  be  of 
little  moment,  for  there  would  be  no  injustice. 

As  an  ideal,  therefore,  the  system  is  lacking  in  a  very 
important  respect.  If  such  a  thing  can  really  be  done, 
let  us,  for  the  time  being,  put  aside  this  element  of  imprac- 
ticability of  attainment,  and  consider  the  ideal  as  a  working 
system,  supposing  that  in  some  way,  natural  or  super- 
natural, man  should  find  himself  living  under  that  regime. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  government.  Tolstoy 
makes  this  as  clear  as  anything  can  be  made.  His  teach- 
ings in  this  regard  were  recognized  by  the  Russian  govern- 


8  Cf.  for  example,  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  pp.  265,  266,  270  (tr.  Wie- 
ner, pp.  317,  318,  324). 


144  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

ment,  so  that  in  the  Russian  editions  we  find  the  whole  of 
the  argument  about  the  state  lacking.  Fifty  pages  of  the 
translation  appeared  in  the  original  as  only  nine.  "As 
long,"  he  says,  "as  there  is  an  armed  man  with  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  right  to  kill  another  man,  whoever 
he  may  be,  so  long  there  will  exist  an  unjust  distribution 
of  wealth, — in  other  words,  slavery. '"*  His  greatest  argu- 
ment against  the  state  seems  to  be  a  sneer,^°  which  pervades 
this  part  of  his  book.  Even  majority  rule  is  not  good,  for 
if  there  is  one  man  against  the  policy  of  the  government, 
an  injustice  is  done.  The  very  nature  of  the  state,  accord- 
ing to  Tolstoy,  makes  it  unjust.^^ 

A  discussion  of  this  argument  of  Tolstoy  against  the 
state  will  be  made  later.  Here  it  is  simply  the  purpose 
to  put  forward  the  ideal  of  society.  The  first  point,  then, 
in  this  ideal  is  anarchy — the  absence  of  government  or  cen- 
tral authority. 

Much  of  the  essay  is  concerned  with  the  principle  of 
non-ownership  of  property.  The  root  of  all  evil  is  money 
and,  along  with  it,  the  ownership  of  the  land.  He  does 
not  give  us  a  very  clear  account  of  how  a  social  system 
would  get  along  without  the  ownership  of  property,  either 
by  the  individual  or  by  the  state.  He  does  tell  us  of 
an  Utopian  community  among  Russian  peasants  which  he 
considers  to  be  an  embodiment  of  the  ideal.  "They  come 
to  a  land,"  he  says,  "settle  themselves  on  it  and  begin  to 
labor ;  and  it  does  not  enter  into  the  mind  of  any  of  them 
that  a  man  who  does  not  use  the  land  could  have  any  claim 
to  it,  and  the  land  does  not  assert  any  rights  of  its  own ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  colonists  conscientiously  recognize  the 
communism  of  the  land,  and  that  it  is  right  for  everyone 
of  them  to  plow  and  mow  wherever  he  likes. '  '^^ 

The  people  can  obtain  various  instruments  of  labor  and 
work  with  these,  or  with  others  borrowed  without  interest. 


0  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  136  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  158). 
loIMcl.,  p.  128  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  150). 

11  Ibid.,  p.  128  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  150). 

12  Ibid.,  p.  86  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  103). 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  145 

We  are  not  told  how  these  may  be  obtained,  but  we  may 
suppose  that  they  are  to  be  of  the  man's  owti  manufacture, 
or  the  manufacture  of  several  or  many  men  working  to- 
gether. Tolstoy  will  admit  of  an  association  of  these  men 
together  for  common  purposes,  but  it  is  difficult  to  decide 
what  would  be  their  method  of  procedure.  Certainly'  ex- 
perience teaches  us  that  if,  as  he  desires,  no  action  is  to 
be  taken  that  is  against  the  wishes  of  any  of  the  members^^ 
very  little  could  ever  be  accomplished.  Experience  with 
any  association  of  men  shows  us  that  there  is  always  dif- 
ference of  opinion.  Such  an  association  forms  the  only 
economic  device  that  Tolstoy  suggests  for  his  social  system. 

A  society  that  lacks  government  and  ownership  of 
property  will  thus  be  entirely  revolutionary  in  the  most 
basic  principles.  It  would  hardly  be  compatible  with  life 
in  the  city  or  with  any  complicated  industrial  ventures. 

Indeed  this  very  question  of  division  of  labor  is  dis- 
cussed at  large  by  Tolstoy,  but  it  is  difficult  to  find  to  what 
extent  he  would  actually  admit  it  into  his  system.  At  one 
place  he  says  that  it  is  good  as  a  principle  so  long  as  all 
the  people  who  support  a  man,  who  is  not  himself  a  direct 
producer  of  food,  but  who  is  doing  some  work  for  which 
he  is  particularly  fit,  are  willing  for  him  to  continue  his 
work  and  are,  in  turn,  willing  to  support  him  for  it.  But 
we  shall  see  that  he  does  not  agree  that  this  can,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  often  happen.  At  the  most  it  will  admit  of  a  black- 
smith or  a  teacher  in  the  neighborhood.  None  of  the  work 
that  is  done  in  the  city  would  receive  his  approval,  for 
there  are  always  those  who  contribute  to  the  support  of 
these  city  people  unwillingly,  and  this,  he  says,  is  slavery. 
He  would  not  free  men  from  the  necessity  of  producing 
bread  on  the  farms  in  order  to  be  bootmakers,  machinists, 
writers  or  musicians,^'*  but  w^ould  have  them  produce  their 
means  of  support  by  actual  work  first,  and  then  attend  to 
the  special  duties  that  they   are  better  fitted  for.     This 


13  Ibid.,  p.  132  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  153). 
^^Ibid.,  p.  257  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  309). 


146  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

method  of  work  is  to  be  desired,  for,  in  the  ideal  state, 
the  making  of  the  living  wonld  be  a  privilege  and  would 
allow  these  men  to  do  their  own  special  work  better.  He 
wishes  the  day  to  be  divided  into  four  parts,^^  the  first  for 
hard  labor,  the  second  for  mental  labor,  the  third  for  handi- 
craft, and  the  fourth  for  intercourse  with  men.  Each  man 
would  in  this  way  produce  all  that  he  needed.  This  follows 
naturally  as  a  corollary  of  non-ownership.  Nothing  could 
be  bought  if  nothing  could  be  owned,  and  nothing  could  be 
bartered  for  if  the  commodities  on  either  side  did  not  be- 
long to  the  parties  concerned.  The  only  method,  then,  of 
getting  the  work  of  another  man  would  be  to  take  it  without 
recompense,  or  to  exchange  actual  work  for  it — the  only 
thing  a  man  owns.  This  latter  is,  to  say  the  least,  incon- 
venient— so  much  so  indeed  that  little  manufacturing  could 
be  looked  forward  to  in  a  society  without  property. 

Such  is  the  business  condition  that  Tolstoy  outlines  for 
his  ideal  society.  What  does  he  ofi'er  his  people  for  mental 
food? 

He  agrees,  in  the  first  place,  that  people  not  only  need 
to  be  fed,  but  that  they  have  thoughts,  passions,  tempta- 
tions and  errors  that  must  be  ministered  to.^^  Indeed  he 
admits  that  the  spiritual  and  mental  activities  are  necessary 
and  are  the  most  difficult  of  men's  callings.^''  But  this  does 
not  mean  that  he  approves  of  either  the  present  educational 
or  ecclesiastical  systems.  Higher  education  he  condemns 
outright.^^  People  who  have  been  off  to  school,  he  tells 
us,  are  unfit  for  life.^^  Science,  as  popularly  known,  he 
regards  as  useless,  serving  merely  to  maintain  a  number  of 
men  in  idleness,  who  spend  their  time  collecting  material 
to  justify  the  present  miserable  state  of  affairs.  They 
are  not  hardworking  men,  but  usually  live  in  luxury  and 


15  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  248  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  299), 

16  Ibid.,  p.  23  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  27). 

17  Ibid.,  p.  237  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  272). 
^s  Ibid.,  p.  209  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  252). 
19  Ibid.,  p.  237   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  273). 


J 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoxfs"  What  Shall  WeBo  Then?''  147 

dissipation.^*^  He  is  wholesale  in  his  condemnation  of  uni- 
versities, libraries,  conservatories,  picture  and  statue  gal- 
leries, and  theatres.-^  The  following  classes  of  men  he 
looks  upon  as  quite  useless  in  the  social  system:  experi- 
mental scientists,  antiquarians,  historical  novelists,  picture 
artists,  musicians  and  poets."  Science  and  art  are  useless 
so  long  as  they  are  practised  for  gain  and  are  not  intelli- 
gible to  everyone.'^  He  attacks  the  experimental  and  in- 
ductive methods  used  by  science.  He  denies  the  theory 
of  evolution  and  that  of  the  organism  of  humanity.^*  Edu- 
cation must  not  recognize  either  of  these  theories. 

Education,  then,  in  the  way  we  ordinarily  think  of  it, 
does  not  enter  into  Tolstoy's  scheme.  No  compulsory  edu- 
cation is  to  be  tolerated.-^  Education  must  not  be  of  such 
a  nature  that  some  people  are  improved  beyond  others,  for 
the  barrier  of  education  and  cleanliness  that  stands  between 
people  must  be  broken  down.-®  All  the  amenities  of  life 
are  to  disappear,  for  with  hard  work  the  desire  for  them 
always  disappears.^^  It  is  particularly  wrong,  he  thinks, 
to  serve  men  by  that  advantage  which  an  education  is  sup- 
posed to  give.-^  Hence  we  gather  that  education  is  to  have 
nothing  more  than  an  incidental  place  in  the  system,  and 
that  it  seems  to  reduce  itself  to  the  sporadic  attempts  of 
men  w'ho  have  the  inclination  to  teach  other  people  after 
working  all  day.  A  place  for  a  full-time  teacher  would 
probably  not  be  provided,  for  not  everyone  would  want 
the  teacher  to  teach.  The  intellectual  life  of  the  people 
would  consist  largely  of  the  simplest  amusements  of  the 
folk.     On  the  other  hand,  he  thinks  that  there  would  be 


20  Ibid.,  p.  213  (tr.  Wieuer,  p.  237). 
21- Ibid.,  p.  177   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  215). 

22  Ibid.,  p.  235  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  271). 

23  Ibid.,  p.  238  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  273). 

21  Ibid.,  p.  190  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  223). 
25  Ibid.,  p.  221  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  266). 
2<-' Ibid.,  p.  72   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  84). 

2-!  Ibid.,  pp.  250,  251  (tr.  Wiener,  pp.  300,  301). 
28  Ibid.,  p.  245   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  294). 


148  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

room  for  the  great  teachers  and  philosophers  of  life,  who, 
he  says,  are  the  only  true  scientists.  As  for  religious  ac- 
tivity he  says  little,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
a  religion — fillecl  with  superstition  as  it  would  naturally  be, 
with  such  ignorance  abroad  in  the  land  as  these  meagre 
educational  advantages  would  bring  about — might  not  have 
a  place  in  the  system. 

This  social  body  would  be  ruled  largely  by  moral  con- 
siderations. What  some  of  these  principles  are  we  are 
told  by  our  author.  A  kind  of  asceticism  is  the  first  thing 
taught  as  the  necessary  basis :  scientists  must  suffer  in 
order  to  help  rnenf^  merely  because  a  thing  gives  one 
pleasure  it  is  to  be  condemned.  It  is  wrong  to  give  charity 
when  one  feels  good  in  giving  it.^°  Tolstoy's  extreme  ab- 
stemiousness from  pleasing  food  and  from  clean  clothes 
which  he  likes  also  illustrates  that  this  is  one  of  the  prin- 
ciples. The  philosophy  he  gives  is  extremely  hard  to  form 
into  any  consistent  scheme.  His  whole  book  seems  to  be 
a  call  to  sacrifice  oneself  for  Humanity,  but  it  reiterates 
that  the  real  purpose  is  not  the  result  for  mankind,  but 
for  oneself.  Labor  shall  be  performed  not  for  production, 
but  because  it  is  good  for  one  to  labor.^^  Benevolence  must 
be  practiced,  but  to  the  end  that  one  may  be  a  benevolent 
man.  Indeed,  a  man  shall  go  to  all  lengths  to  reach  this 
end.  He  cannot  stop  at  one  ruble  or  ten  thousand  in  his 
gifts,  for  he  must  be  a  really  benevolent  man.  "One  can- 
not be  a  second-rate  kind  man."^-  Everything  is  looked 
on  from  the  personal  point  of  view. 

Tolstoy  gives  us,  then,  a  social  ideal  that  calls  for  an- 
archy, that  forbids  ownership  of  any  property,  real  or  per- 
sonal, that  limits  education  to  the  merest  rudiments,  dis- 
regarding the  work  of  great  scientists  and  artists,  and 
taking  a  personal  motive  for  action  rather  than  a  humani- 
tarian. 


20  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  237  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  285). 
so  Ihid.,  p.  46  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  54). 

31  Ibid.,  p.  237   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  284). 

32  Ihid.,  p.  73   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  87). 


A 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  149 

Does  such  a  system  stand  the  test  we  have  proposed  in 
the  last  chapter  for  the  examination  of  the  social  ideal? 
Does  it  minister  to  those  fundamental  needs  of  man  that 
must  be  considered  in  social  reform? 

1.  To  supply"  the  need  for  food  and  clothing  and  for  all 
the  primary  physical  needs  is  one  of  the  first  purposes  of 
Tolstoy's  reform.  There  is  little  doubt  that  for  a  time 
such  might,  indeed,  be  the  result.  But  we  could  not  hope 
for  material  plenty  to  last  into  the  distant  future.  The 
reason  for  this  will  be  seen  when  economy  and  security 
are  discussed. 

2.  We  have  noted  that  health  is  one  of  the  great 
requisites  of  mankind.  Tolstoy  thinks  that  health  will 
come  without  trouble  if  we  will  all  begin  hard  work.  Does 
this  follow?  Is  it  not  quite  certainly  true  that  epidemics 
among  savages  and  all  peoples  "  uncontaminated  by  our 
artificial  civilization"  are  much  more  fatal  than  in  centers 
Avhere  perfect  hj^giene  and  skilled  surgery  and  medical  prac- 
tice prevail  ?  In  rural  England  in  the  unenlightened  Middle 
Ages,  the  Black  Death  carried  off  a  distressingly  large  part 
of  the  population.  Under  the  most  healthful  outward  con- 
ditions, it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  use  scientific  methods 
to  prevent  sickness.  For  this  Tolstoy  makes  little  provision, 
lie  believes  that  all  the  painstaking  work  of  the  scientists 
in  this  direction  has  been  lost  and  that  it  is  only  by  labor- 
ing that  health  can  be  attained.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  general  state  of  health  would  be  improved  if  everyone 
were  on  the  farms,  but  it  is  certain  that  this  would  be 
overcome  b.v  the  disregard  of  hygiene  and  cleanliness  w^hich 
he  advocates. 

3.  An  efficient  consideration  of  the  perpetuation  of  the 
race  is  lacking  in  the  system.  We  can  be  only  apprehensive 
of  the  result  if  such  large  families  as  Tolstoy  wishes  be- 
come the  rule.  The  duty  of  women  shall  be,  he  says,  to 
produce  all  the  children  that  they  can.  He  does  not  con- 
sider whether  such  a  condition  would  bring  about  a  race 
of  efficient  beings.     Neither  does  he  take  into  account  the 


150  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

fact  that  in  some  way  the  increase  in  population  must  be 
checked,  if  we  are  not  to  meet  economic  ruin.  Certainly 
the  position  of  scientific  eugenics  is,  in  every  way,  saner. 

4.  Perhaps  the  greatest  weakness  of  Tolstoy's  system  is 
the  fact  that  it  ignores  entirely  the  question  of  economy. 
The  purpose  of  his  system  is  not  to  produce  much,  but  to 
labor.  In  other  words,  it  is  the  exertion  that  is  the  good 
thing  and  not  the  result  of  the  exertion.  But  experience 
teaches  us  a  different  lesson.  Although  Tolstoy  scorns  the 
law  of  Malthus,  there  is  much  truth  in  it,  and  there  would 
be  still  more  truth  if  the  present  economical  methods  were 
not  in  vogue.  Division  of  labor,  machinery,  education,  and 
special  training  are  all  necessary  if  we  are  not  soon  to 
reach  the  starvation  point.  The  greatest  of  economic  de- 
vices, money,  is  banished  from  his  system.  There  is  no 
likelihood  that  permanent  buildings  would  be  built  on  land 
to  which  no  one  had  any  claim.  As  soon  as  a  building 
should  be  erected,  any  man  or  men  possessing  sufficient 
physical  strength  could  proceed  to  oust  the  man  who  built 
it,  and  there  would  be  no  authority  to  interfere.  Few  tools 
would  be  made  under  an  arrangement  by  which  the  one 
who  did  not  help  would  have  the  same  right  to  the  use 
of  them  as  the  one  who  made  the  sacrifice  in  order  to  pro- 
cure them.  We  see  then  that  even  from  the  point  of  view 
of  supplying  man  with  the  primary  needs  of  life  the  policy 
is  short-sighted. 

5.  And  would  there  be  justice?  Yes  and  no.  There 
would,  we  agree,  be  equality  in  the  opportunities  of  men. 
All  would  be  brought  down  to  the  same  level.  The  question 
whether,  without  government,  this  equality  could  be  kept, 
is  important :  it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  it  actually  would 
subsist  for  any  long  time.  Nor  can  we  say  that  society 
would  reward  every  man  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  his 
services.  Indeed,  there  would  be  no  reward  except  the 
living  a  man  would  filch  from  the  soil.  Not  every  man 
finds  his  greatest  ability  to  be  in  hard  manual  labor.  We 
have  seen  that  everyone  must,  first  of  all,  work  with  his 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  151 

hands,  and  this  work  is  to  be  considered  the  man's  real 
service  to  humauit}-.  It  is  impossible  under  Tolstoy's  sys- 
tem to  provide  that  a  man  who  might  serve  his  country 
with  enormous  economic  saving,  by  superior  qualities  as  a 
statesman,  or  as  a  manager  of  large  industries,  or  as  an 
inventor,  should  get  a  reward  commensurate  with  his  ser- 
vices. Division  of  labor  we  have  seen  would  be  extremely 
limited,  by  the  law  that  the  service  must  have  the  unanimous 
consent  of  those  who  support  the  man  who  does  not  labor 
with  his  hands.  What  statesman  in  America  or  Europe, 
or  what  inventor  or  industrial  genius,  could  command  the 
unanimous  support  of  those  whom  he  is  benefiting?  Real 
reward,  then,  would  come  only  to  the  man  who  is  of  greater 
physique  than  others,  or  who  by  some  skill  is  able  to  pro- 
duce more  from  the  soil  than  another.  Is  not  this  itself  an 
element  of  unfair  discrimination?  The  third  point  that 
we  have  included  under  justice  was  a  right  to  a  voice  in 
the  government.  This  could  hardly  apply  in  a  system  with- 
out government.  But  there  would  exist,  as  Tolstoy  says, 
associations.  Let  us  see  how  nearly  every  man  would  have 
a  voice  in  the  conduct  of  this  association.  A  motion  is  up 
that  a  viaduct  be  built  across  a  morass.-^  Ninety-eight 
per  cent  of  the  voters  express  approval  and  two  per  cent 
disapprove.  In  this  ease  the  motion  is  lost  because  there  is 
objection.  Is  not  this,  in  the  first  place,  an  unfair  discrimina- 
tion in  favor  of  the  negative  votes,  and,  secondly,  a  positive 
disfranchisement  of  ninety-eight  per  cent  of  the  voters  ?  We 
cannot  say,  then,  that  a  voice  in  the  management  of  affairs 
is  guaranteed  by  the  system.  It  does,  as  we  have  seen, 
give,  at  least  for  a  time,  equal  opportunities,  but  it  dis- 
regards the  necessity  for  just  reward  and  for  the  right 
to  a  voice  in  the  affairs  of  the  community. 

6.  Security  of  life  and  property  we  have  seen  is  a 
necessity  not  less  than  justice.  It  is  to  provide  for  this 
that  all  governments  exist — at  least  in  theory.  In  Tol- 
stoy's scheme  absolutely  no  provision  is  made  for  the  re- 


33  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  132   (tr.  Wiener,  p.  154). 


152  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

straining  of  the  strong  and  unruly  who  might  wish  to  par- 
take unjustly  of  the  results  of  the  work  of  the  weak.  That 
society  would  be  Utopian  indeed  that  would  so  far  change 
man's  nature  that  it  would  need  no  restraint. 

Not  only  does  Tolstoy  disregard  the  most  fundamental 
needs  of  existence ;  he  overlooks  the  fact  that  there  are  cer- 
tain inborn  qualities  in  man  that  cannot  be  changed.  Two 
of  these  we  have  seen  are  ambition  and  dislike  of  change. 

7.  In  the  discussion  of  ambition  it  was  noted  that  it 
was  one  of  the  greatest  assets  of  mankind,  and  one  of  the 
strongest  forces  that  had  influenced  man's  upward  course 
in  civilization.  It  was  seen  that  it  was  also  capable  of 
abuses.  Does  this  ideal  foster  what  is  good  about  it,  and 
do  away  with  what  is  bad?  The  man  of  superior  qualities 
would  not  have  an  efficient  field  in  which  to  develop  them, 
and  he  would  not  have  any  reward,  which  is  the  thing  that 
ordinarily  spurs  one  on  to  ambitious  effort.  The  system 
would  prevent  all  creative  ambition.  We  must  admit  that 
along  with  the  elimination  of  the  constructive  power  of 
this  quality,  society  would  be  rid  of  many  evils  which 
grow  from  a  perversion  of  ambition.  There  would  be  no 
temptation  to  the  business  man  to  grind  his  employees 
under  the  weight  of  hard  work  and  low  pay.  Man's  highest 
material  aspiration  would  be  a  mere  living  from  the  soil. 
But  the  loss  of  ambition  as  a  spur  to  effort  would  be  enough 
to  condemn  any  social  ideal. 

8.  Although  we  have  supposed,  for  the  sake  of  the  argu- 
ment, that  the  society  proposed  by  Tolstoy  could  be  estab- 
lished, we  may,  nevertheless,  urge  as  a  point  against  the 
system  that  its  establishment  would,  as  we  have  seen,  neces- 
sitate a  great  and  inconvenient  change  in  the  present 
society. 

9.  That  Tolstoy  disregards  comfort  there  is  little  room 
to  doubt.  He  continually  admonishes  the  most  frugal  fare 
and  the  simplest  and  least  luxurious  furniture.  It  is  con- 
ceivable, however,  that  by  common  consent  a  man  might  be 
allowed  to  keep  a  comfortable  chair  he  had  made  for  his 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?''  153 

leisure  moments.  Naturally  it  would  belong  to  everyone 
else  as  much  as  to  him.  Those  inventions  that  make  for 
comfort  would  probably  be  stillborn,  for  in  no  way  can 
there  be  any  reward  for  this  service.  The  desire  itself 
would  not,  therefore,  receive  sure  satisfaction,  and  the 
great  progress  caused  by  this  motive  would  be  done  away 
with. 

10.  Just  what  room  there  would  be  in  the  society  for 
the  agents  of  amusement  is  difficult  to  say.  He  suggests 
in  one  place  that  folk-songs  and  perhaps  simple  theatres 
which  can  be  understood  by  absolutely  everyone  should  be 
the  principal  recreation.  But  there  would  surely  be  lack- 
ing much  that  gives  the  theatrical  business  its  present  im- 
petus. No  box-office  receipts  would  be  possible,  and  no 
actors  could  be  had  to  give  their  time  to  the  work  in 
order  to  receive  the  requisite  years  of  training.  ]\Iuch  of 
the  variety  of  amusements  in  the  city  today  which  gives 
so  much  real  pleasure  to  the  people  would  be  done  away 
with.  Particularly  would  all  light  recreation  for  the  per- 
son of  superior  mind  be  lacking. 

11.  And  would  these  thinkers  have  opportunity  for  the 
intellectual  and  aesthetic  activity  that  they  crave?  We 
have  seen  that  there  would  be  no  higher  education,  no 
science  (as  we  generally  understand  the  term),  no  artists 
and  no  musicians.  We  presume  that  boote  already  in 
existence  would  be  retained,  but  they  could  not  belong  to 
anyone.  Having  no  head  and  no  directing  power  and 
no  active  standard  bearers,  the  intellectual  life,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  would  lose  itself  in  an  aimless  and  unprofitable 
existence. 

12.  That  most  precious  possession  of  man,  that  which 
elevates  him  the  highest  above  the  brute  creation — the  as- 
piration toward  the  truth  and  the  light — would  receive  but 
little  encouragement  under  the  system.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  the  greatest  strides  toward  true  conceptions  in  the 
past  have  been  made  through  the  help  of  the  experimental 
scientist.     All  other  guides  have,  at  one  time  or  another, 


154  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

led  astray.  Religion  and  philosophy,  based  as  they  very 
often  are,  on  theory  or  metaphysics,  often  find  that  the 
real  facts  belie  their  findings.  It  is  only  by  inductive 
reasoning  that  truth  has  been  approached.  Tolstoy  argues 
against  this,  the  only  true  instrument  for  correcting  man's 
erroneous  opinions.  Science  and  philosophy  would  be 
thrown  back  to  the  speculative  stages.  Theories  would  be 
formed,  and  then  facts  found  in  concord  with  these 
theories.^*  The  system  would  throw  us  backward  thous- 
ands of  years  in  our  search  for  truth. 

13.  There  is  little  doubt  that  this  narrow  view  of  science 
would  have  a  profound  influence  on  the  religion  of  the 
people.  It  would,  of  necessity,  depend  for  its  accuracy  of 
belief  on  the  vagaries  of  the  theorists  of  the  time.  It 
could  hope  for  no  scientific  basis  of  truth.  As  far  as  the 
beliefs  go  they  would,  in  all  probability,  be  very  narrow. 
We  are  to  suppose  that  there  avouIcI  be  freedom  of  worship, 
and  that  there  might  be  efficient  work  done  by  the  organ- 
ization, hampered,  as  it  would  be,  by  the  difficulty  of  action 
without  majority  rule,  and  without  property. 

Tolstoy's  system  is  thus  thoroughly  inefficient  in  the 
following  points :  Economy,  Security,  consideration  of  the 
Perpetuation  of  the  Race,  recognition  of  the  Dislike  of 
Change,  Amusement,  Intellectual  and  Aesthetic  Life,  and 
the  Search  for  the  Truth.  We  see  that  in  the  following 
points  his  system  is  both  good  and  bad — correcting  faults 
in  one  direction,  but  creating  them  in  others :  Phj^sical 
Necessities,  Justice  (nearly  all  bad),  Ambition,  Comfort 
(largely  bad),  and  Religion.  In  not  a  single  point  do  we 
find  his  system  thoroughly  efficient. 

But  perhaps  someone  may  say :  ' '  We  grant  that  the 
system  has  imperfections,  but  it  is  much  better  than  the 
present  system  or  any  other  that  has  been  proposed."  It 
would  be  a  sorry  world  if  this  were  true,  but  it  is  not. 
Several  systems  can  be  thought  of  that  surpass  the  one 
outlined  by  Tolstoy  in  nearly  every  respect. 


s-*  Cf.  chapters  xxvii-xxxviii,  passim. 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"   155 

Our  present  system,  bad  as  it  is,  violates  only  the  prin- 
ciple of  justice,  and,  to  a  small  extent,  of  economy.  "We 
have  a  reasonable  amount  of  security,  provision  for  suffi- 
cient food  and  clothing  (though  not  for  its  just  distribu- 
tion), care  for  health  and  increasing  attention  to  eugenics. 
Ample  place  is  given  in  the  present  scheme  for  ambition, 
comfort,  amusement,  intellectual  and  aesthetic  activity, 
science,  philosophy,  and  religious  thought  and  practice.  It 
has  the  advantage  of  the  approval  of  experience,  and  does 
not  call  for  any  radical  and  inconvenient  change. 

Such  is  our  present  system.  There  are  two  schools  who 
look  to  improvement  in  matters  of  justice  and  economy. 
The  Socialists  wish  to  change  the  whole  system  of  produc- 
tion, and  promise  us,  as  a  result,  perfect  justice.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  such  an  ideal  would  be  possible  under 
their  system,  for  the  activity  of  some  men  (such  as  capi- 
talists) w^ould  be  curtailed,  but,  in  general,  a  great  im- 
provement might  be  looked  for  in  justice  and  economy. 
It  would  not  foster  ambition  in  the  same  way  that  the 
present  system  does,  and  it  has  the  disadvantage  of  being 
revolutionary.  It  is,  thus,  an  improvement  in  two  import- 
ant points,  and  a  retrogression  in  two  not  so  vital.  It 
surpasses  Tolstoy's  system  in  every  single  respect  as  a  real 
social  ideal. 

Another  class  of  reformers  seek  to  avoid  revolutionary 
change  and  to  foster  ambition,  at  the  same  time  making 
improvements  in  justice  and  economy.  By  public  owner- 
ship of  natural  monopolies,  by  added  effort  toward  efficient 
education,  by  greater  political  freedom,  by  inheritance  and 
income  taxes,  these  reformers  hope  to  make  the  opportun- 
ities of  life  more  equal  and  the  production  of  commodities 
more  economical.  This  system  would  meet  every  need,  de- 
sire, and  instinct  of  man.  Even  in  the  matter  of  justice, 
its  only  weakness,  it  is  better  than  the  ideal  held  out  in 
What  Shall  We  Do  Then? 

Tolstoy's  social  ideal  has  thus  been  examined  and  found 
wanting.     Its  adoption  could  mean  only  misery  for  man- 


156  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

kind.  Instead  of  the  improvement  which  we  may  rightfully 
expect  a  social  ideal  to  bring  about,  the  system  would  be 
vastly  worse  than  that  under  which  we  live.  It  has  none 
of  the  virtues  that  belong  to  other  ideals  of  social  reform, 
either  socialistic  or  conservative.    It  has  all  their  faults. 

Such  failure  in  a  system,  when  applied  to  actual  prac- 
tice, cannot  be  accidental.  The  fault  is  basic.  It  lies  in 
the  three  fundamental  principles  on  which  the  system  rests. 
It  will  be  well  to  examine  the  arguments  that  influenced 
Tolstoy  to  adopt  principles  that  led  to  so  erroneous  a  social 
ideal. 


CHAPTER  IV 

TOLSTOY'S  FUNDAMENTAL  ERRORS 

Tolstoy  tells  us  that  after  he  gave  up  his  attempts  at 
charity  in  Moscow  in  despair,  he  fell,  as  Malory  would  say, 
"into  great  thoughts."  Since  things  were  thoroughly  out 
of  joint,  as  his  experience  showed  him  they  were,  there 
must  be  something  radically  wrong  with  the  fundamental 
conceptions  on  which  the  present  state  of  affairs  is  based. 
Accordingly  he  examined  three  of  the  cornerstones  of  our 
existing  system  and  found  them  false.  Hence  it  was  easy 
to  see  why  the  structure  built  on  these  foundations  was 
so  imperfect.  These  first  principles  were  government; 
property  ownership,  and  particularly  the  ownership  of 
money;  division  of  labor,  and  especially  the  position  of 
science  and  art  in  the  social  body. 

The  reasons  for  these  conclusions  are  given  rather  fully 
in  the  essay.  It  is  now  our  task  to  examine  them  and  to 
see  if  these  principles  are  really  wrong  in  themselves,  as 
Tolstoy  says,  or  whether  they  are  themselves  good,  but  have 
given  rise  to  evils  because  of  the  unwise  or  wrongful  use 
of  them.  The  discussion  will  be  confined  almost  entirely 
to  Tolstoy's  own  arguments. 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  157 

The  points  made  in  Chapter  XXI  of  What  Shall  We  Do 
Then?  are  sufficient  for  the  purpose  in  hand,  so  far  as  the 
argument  against  government  is  concerned.  Tolstoy's  arg- 
ument, we  shall  see,  is  against  government  in  the  abstract — 
government  as  such,  and  this  we  must  be  careful  to  re- 
member at  all  times.  Instances  of  the  inefficiency  of  any 
particular  government  which  can  be  shown  to  be  peculiar 
to  that  form,  but  which  have  been  done  away  with  in  other 
forms,  are  of  no  weight.  To  admit  such  is  equivalent  to 
arguing  against  the  family  as  an  institution  because  a 
certain  father  is  unjust. 

There  are,  as  has  been  shown,  three  parts  to  his  argu- 
ment against  the  state:  (1)  It  is  not  sacred.  (2)  It  is 
useless.     (3)  It  is  wicked  and  unjust. 

The  first  point  has  been  mentioned  already  and  we  shall 
pass  over  it  rapidly.  It  is  hard  to  know  just  what  we  mean 
by  sacred.  If  we  mean  that  it  has  a  certain  divine  origin 
and  that,  for  some  superstitious  reason,  we  should  honor  the 
institution,  most  of  us  will,  without  doubt,  agree  with 
Tolstoy.  But  if  it  means  that  this  institution  has  been 
handed  down  by  our  fathers  as  the  best  and  most  econom- 
ical social  device  they  could  find,  embodying  the  result  of 
long  ages  of  experiences,  and  descending  on  us  as  a  prec- 
ious heritage,  there  will  certainly  be  those  who  feel  that 
in  this  respect  he  is  in  error.  It  is  not,  however,  a  point 
on  which  we  can  insist.  The  sacredness  of  the  state  must 
rest,  in  last  analysis,  on  its  efficienc}'  and  its  good  offices. 

But  the  state  is  wicked,  he  tells  us.  In  order  to  support 
this  statement  he  quotes  numerous  instances  of  the  abuse 
of  power  in  Kussia,  unjust  taxes,  army  conscription,  and 
excessive  rents.  We  cannot  say  that  these  things  exist  in 
an  unjust  form  in  any  of  the  more  enlightened  governments. 
A  pampered  aristocracy  is  no  intrinsic  part  of  the  state. 
Army  conscription  is  not  practiced  in  America.  Taxes 
are  not  unjust  so  long  as  the  people  who  give  them  are 
receiving  the  worth  of  their  money.    But,  he  would  argue, 


158  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

there  are  those  who  feel  they  are  not  getting  the  worth  of 
their  money.    Is  not  that  unfair? 

This  brings  us  to  the  very  basic  principle  of  government. 
"The  state  must  exist  for  the  welfare  and  business  of  the 
people,  to  rule  and  protect  them  from  their  enemies.  "^^ 
This  he  quotes  as  the  false  definition  of  government.  It 
does  not  exist  for  their  welfare,  he  says,  for  there  are  people 
who  do  not  want  it.  It  is  wrong,  he  says,  to  make  a  man 
do  a  thing  he  does  not  want,  even  though  it  be  ''for  the 
common  good."  Perhaps  this  expresses  his  argument  as 
well  as  anything  else:  "You  may  try  to  persuade  men 
that  their  welfare  would  be  greater  when  they  all  become 
soldiers,  are  deprived  of  land,  and  have  given  their  whole 
labor  away  for  taxes;  but  until  all  men  consider  this  con- 
dition to  be  their  welfare,  and  undertake  it  willingly,  one 
cannot  call  such  a  state  of  things  the  common  welfare  of 
men."  This  passage  has  been  chosen  because  it  gives  the 
statement  in  as  favorable  a  light  as  possible.  It  will  be 
seen  that  his  illustrations  are  unfair.  In  a  free  country 
people  are  not  all  wanted  as  soldiers,  but  only  those  who 
desire  to  go,  and  men  are  not  asked  to  give  all,  or  any  great 
part,  of  their  labor  for  taxes.  So  the  argument  reduces 
itself  to  the  fact  that  nothing  can  be  called  the  common 
welfare  of  men  that  is  not  agreed  to  by  all  men.  This 
interpretation  is  confirmed  by  the  following:  "As  for  the 
acts,  the  goodness  of  which  is  not  intelligible  to  men,  and 
to  which  they  are  compelled  by  force,  such  cannot  serve 
for  their  good,  because  a  reasoning  being  may  consider  as 
good  only  the  thing  which  appears  so  to  his  reason."^" 

The  issue  is  clearly  defined.  No  acts  are  to  be  per- 
formed affecting  the  whole  people  and  taking  the  taxes  of 
the  whole  people,  so  long  as  there  is  any  man  who  does  not 
feel  that  he,  personally,  is  getting  the  full  benefit  of  his 
money.     We  must  agree  that  this  is  equivalent  to  denying 


3r.  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  128  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  150). 
30  Ibid.,  p.  130  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  152). 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  159 

the  principle  of  government — the  greatest  good  for  the 
greatest  number. 

Such  an  abstract  point  is  difficult  to  argue.  The  gov- 
ernment is  an  association  of  people  bound  together  for 
common  protection  and  for  the  common  interest  of  all. 
That  it  carries  on  many  good  and  useful  functions  will 
be  seen  presently.  It  is  merely  a  question  of  convenience 
whether  it  is  better  to  have  these  benefits  that  help  human- 
ity as  a  whole,  even  at  the  inconvenience  or  disapproval 
of  some  member  or  members,  or  to  do  without  these  benefits 
and  consequently  without  the  disapproval  of  the  small 
minority.  The  question  is  even  easier  of  solution  when  it 
is  considered  that,  though  the  disapprover  may  suffer  in 
some  ways,  he  profits  in  a  sufficient  number  of  ways  to 
repay  him  for  the  sacrifice.  And  it  must  also  be  added, 
though  Tolstoy  denies  it,  that  men  often  disapprove  of 
that  which  will  really  be  for  their  own  good.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  public  school  system  does  act  for  good  to- 
ward its  opponents  quite  as  much  as  toward  its  friends. 
Any  other  conclusion  would  argue  for  infallibility  in  every 
voter  in  the  land.  Majority  rule,  then,  is  a  most  convenient 
thing,  to  say  the  least,  for  it  gives  the  greatest  number  of 
people  what  they  want.  In  doing  this,  the  likelihood  is 
that  it  also  benefits  the  minority.  It  is  the  only  method 
we  have  of  finding  what  is  for  the  greatest  good.  Perfect 
satisfaction  is  impossible,  but  shall  we  therefore  have  noth- 
ing done  for  the  common  good? 

A  common  bond  of  men  is  necessary.  The  strong  must 
be  restrained,  or  else  they  will  overcome  the  weak  and  we 
shall  be  reduced  to  a  state  of  savagery.  That  business  and 
industry  be  carried  on  is  an  economic  necessity  If  there 
be  no  law  restraining  the  thief  or  the  swindler,  or  the  mur- 
derer, or  regulating  the  commerce  of  the  land,  business 
will  rapidly  decline.  It  is  also  necessary  that  great  public 
works  be  built.  The  vast  reclamation  projects  of  the  west 
may  be  cited  as  an  example  of  how  the  government  adds 
to  the  economic  wealth  of  the  whole  nation.     Perhaps  the 


160  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

efficient  postoffice  system  is  itself  enough  to  justify  the 
existence  of  the  state.  The  government  weather  bureau 
every  year  saves  the  merchants  of  the  land  and  the  farmers 
an  enormous  amount  of  time  and  energy.  The  government 
promotes  science,  art,  agriculture,  commerce — every  phase 
of  the  activity  of  the  people.  In  many  other  ways  the 
state  and  city  governments  make  the  lives  of  the  citizens 
more  secure,  happier,  and,  on  the  whole,  richer.  The  taxes 
are  spent  where  the  people  as  a  whole  want  them  spent 
and  they  are  just  sufficient  to  stand  this  common  expense. 
They  cannot  then  be  said  to  be  unjust.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  the  government  forms  such  an  efficient  means  of  work- 
ing together  that  every  man  gets  back  in  real  value  more 
than  he  puts  into  the  treasury.  If  the  larger  part  of  men 
did  not  think  so  the  tax  would  not  be  voted. 

Tolstoy  looks  upon  the  army  solely  as  a  means  of  op- 
pression, as  it  undoubtedly  is  in  Russia.  But  in  a  free 
government  the  army  serves  a  real  purpose  in  assuring 
security  to  the  people  and  to  business  and  production. 
Without  the  power  of  defense  there  is  always  the  possi- 
bility of  invasion.  To  predict  that  the  army  can  be  done 
away  with,  even  with  the  dawn  of  universal  arbitration, 
which  seems  now  to  be  in  favor,  is  perhaps  too  sanguine 
a  hope.  The  police  are  not  less  necessary  for  the  local 
safety,  and  the  state  militia  is  ever  a  useful  and  needful 
thing  in  the  case  of  local  riots  and  disorders.  It  is  only 
necessary  that  government  be  made  the  real  servant  of  the 
largest  part  of  the  people  to  do  away  with  the  fear  of  police 
or  army  rule. 

"We  must  agree,  then,  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  are 
governments  Avhich  are  a  real  advantage  to  every  one  in 
them,  whether  they  have  the  support  of  every  one  or  not. 
Majority  rule  is  the  only  way  of  deciding  what  the  people, 
as  a  whole,  wants,  and  this  is  what  a  real  government 
ministers  to.  Government  is  economical,  and  is  convenient. 
It  adds  to  the  material,  spiritual  and  intellectual  life  of 
the  people  as  a  whole.     That  there  are  those  who  do  not 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's"  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  161 

agree  with  what  the  people  as  a  whole  wish  is  not  an  argu- 
ment of  sufficient  weight  to  induce  us  to  forego  the  benefits 
to  be  derived  from  such  an  association.  The  argument 
against  government,  we  see,  is  based  largely  on  Russian 
conditions  that  are  not  inherent  in  government,  and  on  this 
erroneous  theory  that  nothing  can  be  good  in  which  all  do 
not  acquiesce. 

The  center  of  Tolstoy's  whole  argument  is  well  ex- 
pressed in  one  sentence:  "Neither  utilize  men's  labor  by 
serving  the  government,  nor  possess  land  or  money.  "^^ 
This  suggests  his  position  against  the  ownership  of  prop- 
erty. 

It  must  be  observed  that  his  argument  is  not  for  owner- 
ship of  the  land  by  society  as  a  whole.  Private  ownership 
and  the  ownership  by  society  as  a  whole  are  both  con- 
demned by  him.'^  AVe  have  seen  the  inconveniences  that 
non-ownership  w^ould  bring  on  society,  particularly  if  there 
is  no  government  to  enforce  this  condition.  We  have  also 
shown  that  ownership  is  so  much  more  convenient  than 
non-ownership — making  as  it  does  for  permanent  improve- 
ment of  land  that  a  man  would  not  make  if  he  could  not 
have  the  right  to  the  benefits  of  his  work — that,  unless  re- 
strained by  some  power,  man  will  take  permanent  possession 
of  property.  Without  control  there  is  nothing  to  keep  many 
people  from  wanting  to  appropriate  the  most  desirable  land, 
or  building,  or  food.  If  government  is  not  to  settle  this 
very  natural  dispute,  what  is?  It  reduces  itself  to  the 
final  appeal  of  brute  strength. 

But  putting  aside  this  practical  impossibility  of  an 
efficient  social  state  in  which  there  is  no  propertj^  either 
personal  or  belonging  to  the  government,  let  us  examine  the 
abstract  arguments  against  ownership  that  Tolstoy  urges. 

The  most  comprehensive  discussion  of  property  in  the 
abstract  is  found  in  Chapter  xxxix.  Here  he  makes  a 
special  definition  of  property  which,  in  a  way,  begs  the 


3T  niuit  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  139  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  168). 
S8  76id.,  p.  135  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  157). 


162  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

question.  ' '  Property  means  that  which  is  given  to  me  alone, 
which  belongs  to  me  alone  exclusively;  that  Avith  which 
I  may  always  do  everything  I  like,  which  nobody  can  take 
away  from  me,  which  remains  mine  to  the  end  of  my  life,  and 
that  I  ought  to  use  in  order  to  increase  and  improve  it.  Such 
property  for  every  man  is  only  himself.  "^^  His  definition 
of  property  is  made  to  fit  his  argument.  That  which  belongs 
to  one  need  not  be  kept  till  death.  What  is  to  prevent  its 
being  given  away?  Neither  need  it  be  such  that  one  can 
exercise  absolute  control  over  it.  Even  with  the  body,  which 
he  admits  as  property,  one  cannot  do  what  one  wants.  A 
cripple  wants  to  improve  his  body  and  change  it  so  that 
he  shall  be  no  longer  crippled.  Does  he  have  absolute  con- 
trol of  it?  An  athlete  wishes  to  break  the  world's  record. 
If  he  were  master  of  his  body  would  he  not  do  it?  There 
are  limitations  in  man's  treatment  of  his  body  just  as  there 
are  limitations  in  his  use  of  a  house.  This  part  of  the 
definition  does  not,  then,  show  why  man  cannot  own  other 
things  than  his  body.  There  is  no  reason  why  a  farm  may 
not  be  given  to  one  man  alone  and  belong  to  him  exclu- 
sively. Nor  can  it  be  taken  away  any  more  than  one's  own 
life  can  be  taken  away.  The  thief  may  steal  property  and 
the  murderer  may  destroy  life.  As  for  destructibility  there 
is  no  real  difference.  As  for  remaining  one's  own  to  the 
end  of  life,  there  is  no  essential  difference  between  personal 
property  and  life.  Certainly  one's  belongings  may  remain 
all  through  life  and  usually,  in  one  form  or  other,  do.  But 
the  right  to  sell  property,  or  to  dispose  of  it  so  that  it  does 
not  so  last,  cannot  be  different  in  essence  from  the  right 
that  every  man  has  of  suicide  at  any  time.  Both  remain 
during  the  time  he  wills  it,  and  this  must  be  the  real  essence 
of  property:  that  which  is  subject — within  limits — to  one's 
personal  control.  We  find  that  in  but  one  feature  there 
is  an  essential  difference  between  one's  own  body — which 
Tolstoy  admits  as  property — and  that  thing  generally  known 
as  property,  which  he  looks  on  as  an  impossibility.     This 


30  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  268  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  321). 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''^Yllat  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  163 

point  is,  that  that  thing  only  is  property  which  is  coincident 
with  ourselves,  and  which  lives  as  long  as  we  live.  About 
this  remnant  in  the  definition,  which  makes  it  exclude  every- 
thing he  did  not  want  to  include,  we  cannot  argue.  The 
definition  is  made  to  fit  his  idea  of  property  and  will  fit 
no  other.  It  must,  in  last  analysis,  be  a  matter  of  opinion 
whether  it  is  a  fundamental  quality  of  property  that  it 
must  stay  with  one  till  death.  The  contention  is,  certainly, 
a  very  original  one.  It  is  but  a  natural  result  of  the  purely 
deductive  method  of  reasoning  he  advocates. 

We  find,  then,  that  he  proves  that  property  cannot  exist, 
by  making  a  meaning  for  property  that  will  not  be  admitted 
and  for  which  he  makes  no  valid  argument.  Aside  from 
this,  we  have  shown  that,  in  the  abstract,  there  is  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  property  cannot  exist  any  more  than  that 
life  cannot  exist. 

There  remains  the  consideration  whether  it  is  right  for 
man  to  own  anything.  This  of  course  makes  us  inquire 
what  we  mean  by  a  thing  being  right.  Some  will  say  that 
doing  right  is  doing  what  is  for  the  good  of  the  greatest 
number.  We  have  shown  that  ownership  of  some  kind, 
private  or  public,  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  welfare 
of  the  people  at  large.  Others  will  take  the  personal  point 
of  view  and  say  that  one  should  do  that  which  will  make 
him  a  better  man.  Will  not  the  same  standard  of  conduct 
result  from  this  motive? 

The  essay  deals  not  onh'  with  property  in  general  but 
with  one  form  of  it  in  particular.  A  large  part  of  the  argu- 
ment is  concerned  with  a  diatribe  against  money,  as  such. 
According  to  Tolsto.y,  money  has  been  simply  a  means  of 
enslaving.  The  primitive  conqueror  found  slavery  too  in- 
convenient a  form  of  subjugation  and  was  forced  to  adopt 
others.  Taxes,  which  took  the  form  of  money,  were  found 
to  be  the  easiest  method  of  utilizing  the  labor  of  the  con- 
quered, and  this  method  very  early  took  the  place  of  chattel 
slavery  and  land  slavery,  which  were  more  cumbersome 
methods  of  subjugation.    Since  the  time  of  its  first  adoption, 


164  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

money  has  always  been  used  for  this  purpose  by  the  rich 
who  enslave  the  poor. 

"We  must  admit  that  much  that  Tolstoy  says  about  money 
is  true :  it  is  often  used  by  the  wealthy  to  enslave,  and  it 
has  been  a  convenient  means  of  utilizing  other  men's  labor. 
But,  in  spite  of  all  this,  his  condemnation  of  money  is 
unwise. 

In  his  treatment  of  the  development  of  money,  Tolstoy 
has  put  his  stress  on  an  incidental  element  and  has  neg- 
lected to  consider  the  real  necessity  that  called  forth  the 
introduction  of  monej",  and  which  demands  that,  in  spite 
of  the  opportunity  it  affords  for  greed  and  corruption,  it 
shall  be  retained  by  the  present  society.  Money  is  the 
greatest  economic  device  known.  It  permits  the  exchange 
of  undesired  things  for  other  things  that  are  wanted,  with- 
out the  inconvenience  of  measuring  one  in  terms  of  the 
other.  The  abuses  of  money,  we  grant,  are  many,  but  the 
remedy  must  concern  these  abuses  and  not  do  away  with 
money  itself.  A  sane  social  reformer  cannot  follow  liter- 
ally the  exhortation,  "If  thy  eye  offend  thee  pluck  it  out." 
This,  as  well  as  other  abuses  of  property,  must  be  ap- 
proached in  some  way  that  will  help,  rather  than  aggravate 
the  trouble. 

The  third  fundamental  wrong  with  the  present  state  of 
affairs,  according  to  Tolstoy,  is  our  system  of  division  of 
labor.  It  seems  that  in  some  slight  way  he  admits  division 
of  labor  on  principle,  but  feels  that,  in  practice,  it  is  really 
bad.  "The  incorrect  distribution  of  wealth,"  he  states, 
"proceeds  solely  from  the  theory  of  the  division  of  labor, 
preached  by  men  of  art  and  science  for  selfish  purposes."*'' 
But  we  shall  see  that  in  another  place  he  approves  the 
principle:  "Division  of  labor  [is]  a  right  one  only  when 
the  special  activity  of  the  man  is  so  necessary  to  others, 
that  they,  asking  him  to  serve  them,  freely  offer  to  feed 
him   in    compensation   for  what   he   will   do    for  them."*^ 


'"  H'hat  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  224  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  270). 
*^  Ibid.,  p.  203  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  245). 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  165 

Perhaps  this  can  safely  be  taken  as  his  position.  But  he 
will  deny  that  this  principle  will  prodnce  many  special 
workers. 

We  have  already  discussed  Tolstoy's  position  in  regard 
to  unanimous  consent.  "We  have  found  that  it  is  entirely 
inefficient  in  producing  good,  that  it  is  unfair,  and  that 
it  would  be  the  greatest  menace  possible  to  the  social  system. 
In  a  sane  discussion  of  division  of  labor,  then,  we  must 
disregard  this  principle.  Instead,  we  must  use  the  only 
efficient  principle  in  social  matters:  the  greatest  good  to 
the  greatest  number.  We  are  quite  willing  to  grant  Tol- 
stoy's point  that  division  of  labor  is  right  "only  when  the 
special  activity  of  the  man  is  so  necessary  to  others,  that, 
asking  him  to  serve  them,  they  freely  offer  to  feed  him  in 
compensation  for  what  he  will  do  for  them."  But  we 
must  insist  that  "others"  be  taken  to  mean,  not  all  others, 
but  a  sufficient  number  of  others  to  make  his  work  a  profit 
or  a  desirable  thing  for  the  community  that  supports  him, 
taken  as  a  whole.  A  large  part  of  our  labor  as  it  exists 
today  actually  fulfills  Tolstoy's  conditions.  Only  those 
people  contribute  to  the  support  of  a  merchant,  for  ex- 
ample, or  an  artisan,  or  a  private  teacher,  who  wish  to  do 
so,  feeling  that  they  are  getting  enough  in  return  to  make 
the  exchange  a  good  one.  But,  even  in  public  activities, 
the  functionaries  are  giving  what  seems  good  to  the  greatest 
number  of  the  people ;  else,  in  a  free  government,  the  people 
would  recall  them,  or  abolish  their  offices.  In  private 
affairs,  then,  we  find  that  division  of  labor  is  ordinarily 
sufficiently  approved  by  its  patrons  to  make  them  contribute 
to  the  support  of  the  special  worker.  That  there  are  abuses 
in  the  business  world  only  the  blindest  would  deny,  but 
their  existence  is  due  to  lack  of  regulation,  not  to  the  system 
itself.  That  the  business  man  who  does  not  fill  a  real  want 
cannot  live  is  apparent  from  the  vast  number  of  men  who 
fail  every  year.  The  want  filled  may  be  a  bad  one,  such 
as  the  love  for  speculation,  or  for  vice  (and  this  must  be 
regulated  by  law),  but  as  a  great  whole,  and  as  a  principle, 


166  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

all  people  who  depend  in  any  way  on  patronage  fill  a  real 
need.  All  who  depend  on  public  support,  officials,  public 
school  and  college  teachers,  government  employees,  and  the 
like,  are  liable  to  lose  their  positions  at  any  time  that  a 
majority  of  the  people  feel  that  they  are  not  receiving 
benefit  in  proportion  to  their  outlay. 

We  see,  then,  that  the  principle  of  division  of  labor 
as  we  have  it  is  largely  self-adjusting.  The  nature  of  the 
thing  makes  it  serve  the  greatest  good  of  the  community. 

Tolstoy  well  divides  the  activities  of  man  into  four 
parts :  hard  labor,  handicraft  and  skill,  intellectual  activity 
and  social  intercourse.  In  the  ideal  state  he  thinks  a  man 
would  perform  all  of  these.  His  day  is  to  be  divided  equally 
among  them.  We  shall  find  that  under  division  of  labor 
one  of  these  is  ordinarily  the  principal  work  of  a  man  and 
the  others  are  merely  his  pastimes.  In  actual  experience 
men  have  found  it  impossible  to  become  master  of  more 
than  one  of  these  activities. 

If  we  could  live  without  economy  we  could  live  without 
division  of  labor.  But  we  have  seen  that  life  without 
economy  is  most  improvident  of  the  future,  and  that  if 
we  hope  to  plan  for  a  prosperous  future  we  cannot  afford 
to  neglect  anything  which  will  make  for  economy  of  pro- 
duction or  efficiency  of  work.  If,  then,  it  be  shown  that 
division  of  labor  is  a  great  economic  device,  we  shall  see 
that  it  serves  the  best  interests  of  the  community. 

In  spite  of  what  Tolstoy  says,  we  must  insist  that  "A 
jack  of  all  trades  is  master  of  none."  Let  us  take  a  few 
examples.  Experience  teaches  us  that  it  takes  a  man  from 
four  to  seven  years  to  become  a  good  physician,  that  it 
takes  equally  long  training  to  become  a  lawyer.  A  long 
apprenticeship  precedes  the  real  work  of  the  man  who  puts 
together  fine  clocks  and  watches,  or  even  of  him  who  suc- 
cessfully weaves  a  basket.  Years  of  training  are  also  neces- 
sary if  one  is  to  become  a  truly  successful  farmer,  getting 
all  that  is  to  be  got  with  the  minimum  of  labor  and  expense. 
Four  men  can  fill  these  positions  well.    They  will  be  thor- 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  167 

oughly  trained  for  them.  The  physician  and  the  lawyer 
will  be  able  to  avoid  the  mistakes  that  centuries  of  former 
errors  have  pointed  out  to  them,  and  the  artisan  and  the 
farmer  will  be  able  to  profit  by  the  experience  of  those  who 
have  blazed  the  trail  before  them.  But  let  one  man  try 
to  do  all  of  these  things  well.  One  has  but  a  short  life — 
three  score  years  and  ten.  Shall  half  of  it  be  spent  in 
learning  half  a  dozen  professions?  And  why  stop  with 
that  ?  There  are  fifty,  nay  five  hundred  activities  all  neces- 
sary for  the  wellbeing  of  society.  In  order  that  these  be 
done  well,  one  would  spend  one's  life  in  preparation,  and 
then  not  be  ready  for  all  of  them.  And  shall  they  not  be 
done  well?     That  is  the  only  alternative. 

"With  the  abolition  of  division  of  labor  we  have  the 
abolition  of  efficiency  and  enlightenment.  In  a  complex 
life  men  must  have  very  definite  work  to  do  and  learn  to 
do  it  well.  By  such  means  only  can  economy  be  had.  And 
the  complex  life  alone  produces  economy  and  efficiency  and 
hence  is  fated  to  be  the  only  life  that  will  be  able  to  pro- 
vide for  the  future  of  the  race.  It  is  much  to  be  preferred 
to  the  general  adoption  of  a  pastoral  existence.  Never 
were  the  lives  of  men  fuller  than  in  a  system  where  life  is 
many-sided.  Never  has  man  had  a  clearer  vision  of  truth 
than  under  the  influence  of  high  specialization. 

But  Tolstoy  feels  that  these  people  who  are  seeking 
after  truth  are  not  really  doing  so.  He  believes  that  they 
are  striving  merely  to  justify  their  own  existence  and  that 
they  are  spending  the  people's  money  and  living  in  idle- 
ness. We  must  agree  that,  if  this  be  true,  one  of  the  great 
reasons  for  the  existence  of  scientists  and  artists  and  men 
of  learning  generally  is  entirely  lacking.  They,  as  well 
as  other  men,  must  not  live  in  idleness.  They  must  add 
to  the  life  of  the  people  and  give  at  least  value  received 
for  their  support.  The  merchant  by  his  offices  of  distri- 
bution ;  the  farmer  by  his  management  and  labor ;  the  me- 
chanic by  his  skill;  the  laborer  by  his  work;  the  railroad 
manager  by  furnishing  an  easy  and  economical  means  of 


168  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

travel  and  transportation ;  the  government  officials  by  pre- 
serving peace  and  by  regulating  business — all  these  un- 
doubtedly form  an  essential  part  of  the  social  system  and 
repay  society  amply  for  their  support.  Men  of  science 
and  art  and  learning  must  also  contribute  to  the  general 
economic  good  or  happiness  of  the  community  or  else  they 
must  be  condemned  as  much  as  Tolstoy  condemns  them. 
A¥ill  they  stand  the  test  ? 

Tolstoy's  contention  is  not  that  there  shall  be  no  art 
and  science,  but  that  the  art  and  science  we  have  is  not 
intelligible  to  all  and  therefore  must  be  condemned.*-  The 
great  scientists  were  the  great  philosophers  and  teachers — 
Confucius,  Buddha,  Christ,  and  men  of  their  rank.  People 
could  understand  what  they  said.  Now,  however,  science 
is  so  far  divorced  from  the  people  that  it  is  merely  a  matter 
of  confusion  to  the  people.  It  has  not  really  touched  their 
lives.  It  has  not  been  of  material  help  to  them.  The  same 
is  true  of  higher  education  and  of  art. 

This  sounds  like  a  terrible  indictment.  But  we  must 
examine  it  before  accepting  it  in  the  way  Tolstoy  wishes 
us  to. 

The  general  principle,  that  all  that  is  not  understood 
by  all  the  people  is  useless  to  them,  is  erroneous.  It  takes 
years,  sometimes  centuries,  of  teaching  before  the  simplest 
truth  can  really  be  understood  by  the  people  at  large.  The 
rotundity  of  the  earth  is  an  example.  If  scientists  had 
waited  for  popular  approval  before  that  principle  was 
taught  we  should  have  still  believed  implicitly  in  the  flat- 
ness of  the  globe,  and  man  would  have  walked  in  error 
to  the  end  of  his  days.  It  was  more  than  a  century  after 
Copernicus  proved  scientifically  that  the  earth  moved  around 
the  sun  that  Galileo  was  forced  by  the  church,  the  leader 
of  non-scientific  opinion,  to  deny  this  truth,  at  the  peril 
of  his  life.  And  yet  we  must  wait  in  our  scientific  investi- 
gations until  it  is  "intelligible  to  all  men"!  Science  must, 
if  truth  is  to  be  found,  be  left  to  discover  things  without 


42  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  233  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  272). 


I 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"   169 

the  interference  of  the  layman.  It  will  be  seen  that,  in 
the  long-  run,  the  services  of  the  scientist  are  invaluable 
to  the  world,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  general  public 
knows  nothing  of  the  character  of  the  instruments  he  uses 
and  cannot  understand  the  terms  he  employ's  in  speaking  to 
other  scientists.  Such  communications  are  not  meant  for 
the  laymen.  They  are  merely  an  economical  means  of  com- 
munication among  men  in  a  common  pursuit  of  knowledge 
and  truth.  In  all  cases  the  truths  found  reach  the  public 
in  other  ways — in  the  improvement  of  a  machine,  or  in  the 
better  understanding  of  some  natural  law,  or  in  a  new 
surgical  achievement,  or  a  new  means  of  salvation  from 
contagious  disease.  They  are  none  the  less  valuable  be- 
cause the  Italian  laborer  who  is  saved  from  yellow  fever 
thinks  the  examination  of  mosquito  eggs  useless,  or  because 
he  does  not  understand  the  processes  employed  by  the  in- 
vestigator. 

And  we  shall  find  that  even  the  science  of  the  ancient 
days  of  which  Tolstoy  speaks  was  not  clear  to  the  people. 
Even  when  experimental  science  is  banished,  as  he  wishes, 
and  when  theoretical  science  is  established — that  science 
that  is  really  philosophy — we  shall  find  the  same  trouble. 
Profound  truths  are  never  understood  by  mankind  in  their 
true  light.  What  was  the  science,  or  philosophy,  that  Christ 
taught  men  so  clearly?  Who,  of  all  those  simple  people 
he  talked  to,  realized  who  he  was  or  comprehended  the 
message  he  delivered  to  them?  His  language  was  foreign 
to  them:  they  conceived  of  him  as  an  earthly  prince  and 
would  not  understand  what  he  meant.  He  came  unto  his 
own  and  his  own  received  him  not.  But  he  did  not  stop 
his  preaching  of  the  truth  because  of  this:  at  all  costs,  he 
wanted  the  truth  searched  for  and  spread.  Certainly  he 
would  not  wait  till  all  the  people  Avere  desirous  of  his 
services  or  till  they  understood  them.  He  would  have 
waited  long,  it  is  to  be  feared.  Nineteen  hundred  years 
have  passed  and  there  are  things  he  told  those  common 
people  that  the  world  does  not  yet  understand.     And  if 


170  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

the  greatest  of  the  teachers  taught  where  he  was  not  wanted 
and  not  understood,  how  can  we  set  a  higher  standard  for 
the  less  powerful  modern  scholar  or  scientist  or  philosopher  ? 

We  are  told  that  experimental  science  does  not  really 
touch  the  lives  of  the  people.  We  are  given  a  picture  of 
the  scientist  in  his  laboratory  experimenting  with  the  tape- 
worm. We  are  told  with  a  sneer*^  that  the  scientist  uses 
observations  and  that  in  these  observations  there  are  mis- 
takes. The  scientist  also  studies  animalcules  which  you 
cannot  see  and  never  will  see.  A  valid  refutation  of  the 
scientific  method,  truly !  As  if  the  fact  that  animalcules 
cannot  be  seen  with  the  naked  eye,  and  never  will  be  seen, 
were  sufficient  to  damn  the  whole  system !  We  are  told 
that  the  scientist  makes  errors.  But  who  does  not?  They 
can  be,  with  the  instruments  he  uses,  only  trivial.  To  reject 
the  scientific  method  in  favor  of  the  a  priori  method  would 
be  like  discharging  an  excellent  cook  because  he  has  pep- 
pered the  soup  too  strongly,  and  putting  in  his  place  a  man 
who  has  always  worked  in  the  fields  and  does  not  know  a 
single  rule  of  cooking.  It  is  to  throw  away  the  compass 
because  it  varies  from  true  north,  and  trust  ourselves  to 
the  storms  of  the  uncharted  sea.  All  knowledge  is  relative 
to  the  human  understanding.  We  can  but  approach  truth 
as  nearly  as  we  can. 

The  attack  on  the  methods  of  science  is,  after  all,  entirely 
aside  from  the  actual  results.  To  say  that  it  has  not  touched 
the  lives  of  the  people  is  to  be  blind  to  the  history  of  the 
world.  To  cite  many  of  these  instances  would  be  useless, 
they  are  so  apparent.  Several  examples  may  be  mentioned, 
however.  One  scientific  discovery  made  in  a  laboratory  of 
the  University  of  Wisconsin — the  cream  tester — saves  the 
state  annually  more  than  the  cost  of  the  maintenance  of 
the  university.  The  railroad  has  been  perhaps  the  most 
economical  of  modern  devices.  It  was  evolved  by  scientists. 
The  telephone,  which  adds  so  much  to  the  pleasure  of  the 
people,  was  the  result  of  laboratory  science.     Not  to  speak 


43  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  231  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  277). 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  171 

of  these  more  obvious  examples,  we  may  cite  the  improve- 
ment in  surgical  methods  which  has  been  the  cause  of  the 
saving  of  so  many  valuable  lives.  As  the  years  go  by  the 
experimental  scientist  is  becoming  more  and  more  valuable 
to  the  world.  Not  a  little  of  the  difference  between  the 
complexion  of  modern  and  mediaeval  life  is  due  to  the  work 
of  the  man  in  the  laboratory. 

And  the  scientist  has  other  tasks.  He  teaches  and 
spreads  the  knowledge  he  has  attained.  The  young  men 
and  women  who  attend  the  universities  are  led  toward  a 
true  conception  of  scientific  things.  The  boys  are  taught 
to  build  bridges  better,  to  run  farms  better,  to  keep  dairies 
better,  to  construct  and  run  engines  better,  to  take  care  of 
their  health  better.  The  girls  are  taught  the  fundamental 
laws  of  things,  or  are  made  to  find  them  for  themselves. 
They  are  in  many  cases  also  prepared,  by  experimental 
science,  directly  for  their  life-work.  They  are  taught  the 
science  of  home-making,  with  all  that  it  implies.  The  latest 
results  of  the  laboratory  are  embodied  in  the  instructions 
for  cooking,  and  are  taken  away,  now  to  a  home,  now  to  a 
lower  school  where  the  information  is  passed  on  to  the 
greater  multitude  of  the  students  there,  and  from  them 
to  their  mothers  and  sisters.  The  girls,  too,  are  taught  the 
laws  of  hygiene,  so  necessary  for  them,  as  guardians  of  the 
home.  Sewing,  nursing  of  the  sick,  home  decoration  and 
home  economy  have  all  been  the  concerns  of  this  much 
despised  laboratory  science. 

Tolstoy's  condemnation  does  not  stop  with  science.  He 
also  condemns  art  and  literature  and  the  pursuits  of  liberal 
culture.  These  are  also  bad  because  the  common  people 
do  not  understand  them.  Here  the  objection  is  a  little  more 
valid  than  with  science.  There  are  no  material  results  to 
justify  them.  This  we  must  admit  immediately.  But  Tol- 
stoy himself  agrees  that  "science  and  art  are  as  necessary 
to  men  as  food,  drink,  and  clothes — even  still  more  neces- 
sary than  these."**     But  by  art  and  literature  he  means 


^*Ihid.,  p.  226  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  272). 


172  University  of  California  Prize  Essays  [Vol.  1 

that  which  is  understood  by  everyone.  True  art  is  the 
folk-dance;  true  literature  the  folk-song  or  folk-tale. 

This  would  be  very  good  if  there  were  none  that  could 
understand  higher  things,  but  the  world  is  made  up  of  vary- 
ing grades  of  intelligence.  Mental  food  must  be  given  to 
those  who  are  hungering  for  it.  Our  standard  must  not 
be  what  the  lowest  want,  nor  w^hat  the  middle  want,  but  a 
standard  of  literary  and  art  creation  that  will  be  as  high 
as  we  can  make  it,  appealing  to  as  high  emotions,  and  as 
high  sentiments  as  man  has.  It  may  not  reach  the  poor 
man,  but  the  poor  man  must  be  educated  up  to  see  the  high 
things.  There  are  few  enough  who  can  soar.  Most  artists 
and  most  writers  appeal  to  the  great  middle  class,  the  great 
majority  of  light  readers  and  of  thoughtless  art  critics. 
]\Iore  than  enough  of  them  appeal  to  the  less  intelligent 
classes.  Education  strives  always  to  bring  the  great  public 
to  see  the  majesty,  the  wonder,  the  divinity  of  a  great  piece 
of  art  or  a  mighty  monument  of  literature.  The  world 
can  well  afford  to  feed  the  man  who  can  add  to  its  wealth 
a  single  really  great  production  of  art  or  letters :  it  will- 
ingly supports  the  man  who  writes  them  an  amusing  or 
interesting  story  or  draws  them  an  appealing  picture.  Tol- 
stoy seems  to  forget  that  the  intellectual  life  must  be  led 
by  people  to  whom  the  simple  amusements  of  the  folk  would 
seem  the  merest  child's  play.  Every  person  added  to  the 
ranlis  of  those  who  appreciate  that  which  is  really  high 
and  good  in  literature  and  art,  who  have  a  real  aspiration 
for  truth  and  for  the  portrayal  of  truth — for  real  literature 
and  art — is  one  step  added  to  the  process  that  will  result  in 
a  reign  of  peace  and  happiness. 

Education — lower,  intermediate,  and  higher — is  the 
greatest  power  for  good  that  we  have.  The  spread  of 
truth  in  a  land,  the  broadening  of  the  minds  of  men,  the 
deepening  of  the  real  spiritual  and  emotional  life  of  a 
people,  is  the  only  way  to  do  away  completely  with  injus- 
tice, and  pettiness,  and  narrowness.  It  has  been  the  great 
power  for  good  in  the  past.    It  has  led  man's  upward  march 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoy's'' What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"  173 

from  the  brute  and  the  savage.  Like  the  pillar  of  cloud 
and  fire,  it  is  before  us  today  leading  toward  the  promised 
land.    Shall  we  not  follow  to  the  end? 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  REAL  VALUE  OF  TOLSTOY'S  ESSAY 

Thus  far,  we  have  examined  Tolstoy's  ideal  of  social 
reconstruction  and  we  have  found  it  sadly  lacking  in  all 
that  an  efficient  and  workable  social  system  should  possess. 
We  have  seen,  in  the  first  place,  that  many  of  the  wrongs 
that  actuated  such  a  revolutionary  plan  of  action  have  been 
done  away  with  by  other  means,  and  that  there  remains 
but  a  fraction  of  the  real  evils,  seen  by  Tolstoy,  to  be 
mended.  Examination  has  been  made  of  the  various  needs 
of  man  that  must  be  incorporated,  in  one  way  or  another, 
into  the  system  of  the  social  reformer  and  theorist.  Tol- 
stoy 's  system  has  been  measured  by  these  criteria  and  found 
thoroughly  inefficient.  Other  systems  have,  incidentally, 
been  shown  to  be  far  superior.  Lastl}^,  the  theories  on 
which  these  erroneous  conclusions  are  based  have  been 
tested  and  found  to  rest  on  unsound  reasoning  and  to  be 
destructive  to  the  social  organism. 

But,  as  we  mentioned  in  the  opening  paragraph  of  the 
paper,  the  really  significant  part  of  the  essay  has  not  been 
discussed.  To  get  all  there  is  in  it,  we  must  not  take  any 
of  his  plans  or  his  theories  seriously.  Stripped  of  all  these 
things  that  he  seems  to  be  telling  us,  and  which  he  doubt- 
less means,  the  essay  wall  be  found  to  have  a  real  message. 
So  long  as  we  remember  that  in  all  practical  matters  it  is 
a  blind  guide,  w^e  may  read  with  great  profit  the  whole  of 
Tolstoy 's  remarks.  We  must  discount  much :  we  must 
remember  the  desperate  nature  of  the  political  conditions 
under  which  he  wrote,  making  cool  reason  a  practical  im- 
possibility; we  must  make  allowances  for  the  peculiar  con- 
science that  in  later  years  recommended  celibacy  and  yet 


174  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

hoped  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  race ;  we  must,  above  all, 
overlook  the  lack  of  balance  which  years  of  self-analysis 
and  brooding  over  things  when  far  removed  from  the  main 
centers  of  the  world's  thought  naturally  brought  upon  him. 
We  must  recognize  that  he  is  preeminently  honest  and  that 
he  is  actuated  by  a  real  love  of  his  kind. 

Perhaps  there  has  never  been  a  stronger  plea  made  for 
the  man  who  labors  with  his  hands.  It  is  hard  for  the 
world  of  thinkers  and  philosophers  to  see  things  through 
the  eyes  of  the  day  laborer.  It  is  hard  to  Imow  what  are 
his  relations  to  all  the  institutions  of  life,  and  how  he  looks 
on  those  things  which,  thinkers  agree,  are  for  the  ultimate 
good  of  his  class.  The  world  has  been  prone  to  think  of 
them  as  a  necessitj^  for  its  happiness,  but  it  has  had  little 
enough  consideration  for  their  happiness.  Too  long  they 
have  been  considered  mere  conveniences — these  sons  of 
Martha.  But  of  late  we  are  beginning  to  see  that  they  are 
of  as  real  importance  to  the  state  as  any  of  its  members, 
and  that  they  have,  along  with  all  mankind,  inalienable 
rights.  The  world  is  coming  to  see  that  it  is  a  real  law 
of  life  that  he  who  does  not  work  shall  starve.  Tolstoy 
has  impressed  this  by  going  to  the  extreme  of  showing  that 
the  work  of  these  laborers  is  the  most  important  and  the 
most  honorable  employment  of  all.  He  elevates  the  day 
laborer  into  the  rank  of  a  god,  over  all  others.  Here,  of 
course,  he  is  carried  away  by  his  enthusiasm.  The  work 
of  the  man  who  toils  with  his  hands  is  just  as  good  as  that 
of  any  other  man  who  is  making  an  honest  effort  to  serve. 
It  is  going  too  far  to  say  that  it  is  better : 

' '  All  service  ranks  the  same  with  God. ' ' 

But  though  we  must  allow  for  his  enthusiasm,  we  must 
see  the  great  lesson  that  he  teaches.  Our  institutions  are 
for  the  people  and  if  the  greatest  part  of  the  people  are 
these  men  who  toil,  we  must  not  disregard  them.  We  must 
make  our  government  and  our  science  and  art  touch  in  a 
real  way  the  life  of  the  common  people.     We  must  recall 


1912]  Thompson:  Tolstoij's ''What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"  175 

that  it  is  they  who,  in  large  measure,  support  the  govern- 
ment and  pay  the  taxes.  The  government  should  represent 
them  as  well  as  the  other  members  of  the  state. 

Tliis  exaltation  of  the  toiler  has  another  good  lesson 
for  us.  Too  many  of  our  college  settlement  workers  go 
among  the  poor  with  the  distinct  idea  that  in  some  way 
they  are  removed  from  the  poor  and  that  they  belong  to 
a  different  set  of  creatures.  Tolstoy  insists  rightly  that 
the  difference  between  the  poor  laborer  and  the  rich  idler 
is  merely  that  one  does  his  duty  and  the  other  does  not. 
And  this  is  true.  In  kindness  of  heart  and  in  honesty  and 
character — the  things  that  really  do  make  the  difference, 
the  settlement  worker  does  not  differ  greatly  from  the  poor 
and  honest  people  whom  she  tries  to  ' '  elevate. ' '  The  seem- 
ing difference  is  ordinarily  a  matter  of  externals — educa- 
tion, dress,  money,  rearing.  It  is  only  by  putting  on  the 
cloak  of  humility,  by  becoming  as  one  of  them,  that  any 
real  sympathy  and  help  can  be  done  for  the  poor.  ' '  Except 
ye  become  as  little  children  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  King- 
dom." The  same  thing  holds  in  all  the  relations  of  the 
rich  and  the  poor.  The  fact  that  one  must  work  and  gets 
small  reward  is  no  reason  that  one  shall  be  looked  down  on 
and  the  other  exalted.  That  Tolstoy  has  gone  to  the  other 
extreme  in  no  way  invalidates  his  service. 

Besides  this  wonderful  plea  for  the  toiler,  Tolstoy  has 
done  another  great  service.  He  has  challenged  the  great 
institutions  that  have  been  handed  down  to  us.  We  are 
prone  to  take  it  for  granted  that  they  are  good.  He  forces 
us  to  put  them  on  the  balance  and  see  whether  they  are, 
after  all,  valuable.  To  answer  his  arguments  we  must  ex- 
plore the  political  organism  to  its  very  foundation  and  see 
whether  it  be  built  on  solid  rock.  We  are  compelled  to 
question  the  progress  that  has  been  made  by  man  and  to 
inquire  whether  it  be  real  progress.  We  are  even  forced 
back  to  the  question,  which  has  long  been  taken  for  granted, 
as  to  whether  observation  be  the  real  source  of  knowledge. 
It  is  a  valuable  book  that  causes  men  to  think,  and  there  are 


176  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

few  that  cause  deeper  thought  than  this  eternal  question 
of  his,  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?" 

The  greatest  of  all  the  questions  he  sets  us  to  answer 
about  everj^thing  is  its  real  worth.  Does  it  really  add 
anything  to  life?  No  man,  after  reading  the  book,  can 
do  any  work  without  asking  himself  the  question,  "Is  this 
work  to  be  of  real  service  to  humanity?"  And  by  this 
measure  will  all  the  institutions  of  the  world  be  gauged. 
The  idler  will  be  banished.  Those  things  which  are  most 
useful  of  all,  now  or  for  the  future,  will  be  cherished  by 
us.  With  this  principle  as  a  guide  in  our  endeavors  we 
shall  not  fail  to  add  our  part  in  the  struggle  of  humanity 
toward  a  better  and  nobler  future. 


TOLSTOY'S    WHAT    SHALL    WE    DO    THEN f  — A 
PROBLEM  AND  AN  ATTEMPT  AT  A  SOLUTION 


NEWTON  BISHOP  DRURY, 

B.L.,   1912 


CONTENTS 

Foreword — The  Problem  of  Poverty 179 

I.  The  Problem  as  seen  in  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  180 
II.  The  Solution  advanced  in  that  work 185 

III.  What  is  the  Real  Problem 192 

IV.  What  is  the  True  and  Ultimate  Solution? 204 

Conclusion — Tolstov  's  Answer 216 


[178] 


TOLSTOY'S  WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO  THEN? 


A  PROBLEM  AND  AN  ATTEMPT  AT  A  SOLUTION 


FOREWORD 

To  some,  Count  Leo  Tolstoy  stands  as  a  teacher;  to 
others,  as  a  prophet ;  and  to  not  a  few  he  is  a  visionary 
theorist.  But  he  was  really  none  of  these.  He  was  a  simple 
searcher  after  truth.  In  his  diary  of  the  year  1897  he 
wrote :  ' '  There  never  has  been  such  a  thing  as  my  teach- 
ing; there  is  the  one  eternal,  universal  teaching  of  the 
truth.  "^  And  it  was  this  he  sought  to  find.  To  know  this 
teaching,  to  learn  the  truth,  he  set  out  upon  his  life-long 
quest,  a  part  of  which  is  chronicled  in  Wliat  Shall  We  Do 
Then? 

One  thing  was  uppermost  in  his  mind  while  writing  this 
work.  It  was  the  problem  of  poverty.  Upon  this  far- 
reaching  and  universal  question  he  was  seeking  light ;  for 
it  is  a  universal  question  though  expressed  here  in  terms 
of  Slavic  experience.  Since  he  was  led  onward  by  nothing 
save  his  passion  for  truth,  his  very  method  of  approaching 
the  problem  is  of  vital  interest ;  the  conclusion  he  reaches  in 
What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf  is  significant;  and  his  final  views 
on  the  problem  of  poverty  are  to  the  highest  degree  illumin- 
ating. 


1  Miscellaneous    Letters    and    Essays,    translated    by    Leo    Wiener 
(Boston,  Estes,  1905),  p.  555, 

[179] 


180  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

It  would  be  well  to  deal,  in  proper  order,  with  these 
different  phases  of  Tolstoy's  thought.  First  let  us  ex- 
amine the  problem  as  treated  with  in  What  SJiall  We  Do 
Then?  Then  let  us  ask,  in  the  light  of  Tolstoy's  later 
observation,  in  the  light  of  world-wide  experience :  Wliat  is 
the  real  problem  of  poverty  ?  What  is  its  true  and  ultimate 
solution  ? 


I. 

One  of  Tolstoy's  many  critics  has  said^  that  there  is 
something  to  be  learned  even  from  the  aberrations  of  a 
great  mind.  We  need  not  adopt  the  term  applied  to  the 
Russian  thinker,  no  doubt  too  harshly;  but  certain  it  is 
that  we  may  profitably  follow  all  the  windings  of  thought 
in  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  The  work  has  little  premedi- 
tated logic  in  arrangement ;  it  shows  even  less  conscious  at- 
tempt at  literary  style.  It  is  merely  the  history  of  a 
thought,  portraying  the  birth,  growth,  and  partial  fruition 
of  an  idea. 

In  the  nature  of  the  Slav,  according  to  Matthew  Arnold, 
there  is  "an  extreme  sensitiveness  ....  to  what  others  in 
contact  with  him  are  thinking  and  feeling."^  This  indeed 
seems  a  national  trait,  and  Arnold's  saying  was  especially 
true  of  Tolstoy.  To  this  sensitiveness  we  owe  the  very  exist- 
ence of  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  And  this  same  charac- 
teristic is  responsible  for  the  peculiarly  emotional  treatment 
Tolstoy  sometimes  gave  to  the  problem  before  him,  result- 
ing frequently  in  what  the  unknowing  or  the  unsympathetic 
termed  his  ''aberrations." 

Yet  in  the  work  at  hand  it  is  valuable  to  view  the  se- 
quence of  the  chapters  just  as  Tolstoy  wrote  them.  The 
book  opens  in  a  direct  manner: 


2  Nation  (New  York),  xl  (1883),  298. 

^Essays  in  Criticism,  second  series  (New  York,  Macmillan,  1903), 
p.  255. 


1912]    Drunj:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      181 

I  had  passed  all  my  life  in  the  country.  When,  in  the  year  1881, 
I  moved  to  Moscow,  I  was  struck  by  the  poverty  of  the  city:  I  knew 
what  the  poverty  of  the  country  was,  but  that  of  the  city  was  new 
and  incomprehensible  to  me.* 

Here  we  have  the  birth  of  the  idea.  At  once  Tolstoy  is 
confronted  by  the  problem  of  poverty. 

He  tells  how  the  feeling  he  described  grew  on  him.  On 
the  streets  of  Moscow  he  was  repelled  by  the  ragged  mendi- 
cants who  begged  for  alms.  In  Khitrov  Market  he  saw  in 
all  its  filth  and  misery  the  "lower  urban  population."^  At 
Kzhanov  house  were  even  greater  hardship  and  debauch, 
"everywhere  the  same  stench,  the  same  stifling  atmosphere, 
the  same  mingling  of  the  sexes,  the  same  deliriously  drunken 
men  and  women."* 

The  rich  man  grew  ill  at  ease ;  he  felt  that  such  condi- 
tions were  unnatural ;  he  sought  a  remedy.  A  plan  of  phil- 
anthropy presented  itself  to  him  in  connection  with  the 
taking  of  the  Moscow  census;  but,  this  plan  failing,  he 
turned  from  charity  to  questioning.  "Why,  he  asked,  had  he 
been  unable  to  help  the  city  poor  ? 

At  last  he  formed  conclusions.  He  could  not  help  the 
poor,  he  thought,  because  he  himself  was  "standing  on 
boggy  ground  and  trying  to  pull  others  from  the  mire.  "'^ 
He  found  a  satisfactory  reason  for  the  city  poverty.  The 
rich,  he  says,  have  taken  from  these  people,  while  in  the 
countrj',  the  things  they  have  produced ;  the  rich  have  then 
gone  to  the  cities,  where  they  can  give  free  rein  to  their 
lavish  tastes;  and  the  poor  have  flocked  after  them,  in  the 
hope  of  getting  back  some  of  the  necessaries  which  were 
taken  from  them  while  in  the  village.  This  poetic  concept 
is  a  typical  example  of  Tolstoy's  method  in  dealing  with 
the  question. 


*  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener    (Boston, 
Estes,  1905),  p.  4. 
5  Ibid.,  p.  33. 
9  Ibid.,  p.  57. 
7  Ibid.,  p.  69. 


182  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

Another  cause  for  this  poverty  he  gives  in  a  truly 
Russian  manner.  ''I  became  convinced,"  he  says,  "that 
between  us,  the  rich,  and  the  poor,  there  has  been  raised  by 
us  a  great  wall  of  cleanliness  and  education. '  '^  This,  he  con- 
cludes, is  why  the  rich  cannot  meet  their  poorer  brothers  on 
a  common  basis,  take  them  into  their  homes  and  give  them 
charitable  aid. 

Yet  a  third  reason,  he  found,  lay  in  the  possession  by 
the  rich  of  money.  This  stood,  not  for  their  effort,  but  for 
that  of  others;  the  money  thus  had  power  to  command 
labor. 

Knowing  these  things,  Tolstoy  decided  that  he  could  not 
go  on  living  as  he  then  was  living.  He  and  his  class  had 
not  attempted  sincerely  to  help  the  poor.  Such  a  position 
for  him  had  become  unbearable.  And  he  asks  the  question : 
"So  what  is  to  be  done?'"*  Above  all,  he  concludes,  if  he 
is  to  aid  the  poor  he  "must  not  be  productive  of  them. "^° 
The  poor — a  sudden  thought  comes.  "What  poor?"  he 
passionately  exclaims,  ' '  Who  is  poorer  than  I,  a  parasite  ? '  '^^ 

Then  he  returns  to  analysis.  He  propounds  and  answers 
the  question,  "What  is  money?"  To  him  it  appears  the 
main  cause  of  evil  and  instrument  of  oppression.  His  dis- 
sertation on  money  is  long;  but  it  is  also  rambling  and 
inconclusive.  It  indicates  a  continuing  search  in  his  mind 
for  a  more  fundamental  cause  of  poverty. 

This  search  leads  to  a  description  of  what  he  calls  the 
modern  slavery.  Through  the  medium  of  money,  he  says, 
governmental  "  violence  "^^  holds  in  bondage  the  people 
both  through  taxation  and  through  the  levying  of  tribute  by 
landlords.  "The  slavery  of  our  time,"  he  declares,  "is 
produced  by  militarism,  appropriation  of  land,  and  exaction 
of  money.  "^^ 


s  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  84. 

9  Ihid.,  p.  93. 

10  Ibid.,  p.  97. 

11  Ibid.,  p.  98. 
^2  Ibid.,  p.  161. 
13  Ibid.,  p.  168. 


1912]     Drury:  Tolstoy's ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      183 

After  arraigning  modern  science  for  justifying  these 
things  with  its  sophistries,  Tolstoy  proceeds  to  answer  his 
question,  "What  shall  we  do?"  His  plan,  summarized 
briefly,  is  one  of  refusing  to  profit  by  his  position.  He  will 
not  "exploit"^*  the  labor  of  others;  he  will  stand  ready  to 
aid  where  charity  can  be  applied.  Now  he  feels  that  his 
inability  to  help  the  poor  has  been  removed. 

There  is  much  more  to  the  book ;  but  what  follows  aims 
principally  to  reinforce  the  conclusion  that  he  has  reached. 
Tolstoy  shows  at  some  length  how  his  own  class  has  "ex- 
ploited" the  labor  of  the  people.  He  refutes  the  scientists 
who,  under  the  theory  of  the  "division  of  labor, "^^  have 
justified  this  unnatural  state.  He  shows  how,  under  pre- 
tense of  serving  the  people,  first  the  men  of  the  government, 
then  of  the  church,  and  finally  of  science  and  art,  have 
"emancipated  themselves  from  labor, "^"^  and  have  joined 
the  upper  classes,  existing  at  the  expense  of  the  people. 
Their  position  he  declares  to  be  false  and  untenable.  So 
for  a  second  time  he  asks  the  question,  "What  shall  we 
do?" 

Tolstoy's  final  answer  presents  a  three-fold  course  of  con- 
duct; one  of  Truth,  Humility  and  Labor.  The  plan  is 
practically  a  summary  of  his  former  proposals,  and  adds  no 
new  element  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  poverty. 

Concluding,  Tolstoy  compares  the  new  life  he  has 
mapped  out  with  the  misery  and  falseness  of  the  present 
existence  of  the  rich.  He  last  of  all  exhorts  women  to  aid 
in  establishing  the  new  order  of  society. 

This  is  the  main  course  of  thought  in  Tolstoy's  What 
Shall  We  Do  Then?  There  are  numerous  digressions  and 
a  varying  proportion  of  space  is  given  to  other  considera- 
tions, but  the  fundamental  subject  of  the  work  is  the  great 
problem  of  poverty.  It  is  about  this  that  all  else  turns. 
The  secondary  topics  are  such  as  need  be  considered  only 

^ilbid.,  p.  169. 
^5  Ibid.,  p.  201. 
10  Ibid.,  p.  209. 


184  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

incidentally.  Let  us,  then,  address  ourselves  to  the  in- 
quiry: in  what  form  at  the  time  of  writing  this  book  did 
the  problem  of  poverty  present  itself  to  Tolstoy? 

To  answer  this  let  us  briefly  recapitulate.  He  saw  the 
poor  in  Moscow.  Surprised  and  shocked  to  see  privation 
side  by  side  with  such  abundant  riches,  he  tried  to  help 
through  giving  alms,  and  failed.  He  then  inquired  for 
reasons.  He  tried  to  analyze  the  situation.  We  have  fol- 
loAved  Tolstoy  in  his  description  of  the  "modern  slavery" 
and  the  "exploitation  of  labor."  We  have  noted  his  con- 
clusion that  these  evils  were  due  to  landlordism  and  money, 
supported  by  "governmental  violence."  We  have  heard 
his  condemnation  of  the  entire  faulty  structure  of  Russian 
society. 

Indeed,  the  question  arising  in  Tolstoy 's  mind  concerned 
all  classes  of  his  people.  He  felt  that  the  entire  social  and 
economic  scheme  was  wrong;  the  rich  were  just  as  much  its 
victims  as  the  poor.  The  trouble  with  existing  institutions, 
in  his  mind,  was  that  they  had  produced  two  abnormal  ex- 
tremes of  society ;  there  were  two  classes,  the  very  rich  and 
the  very  poor ;  the  position  of  either  class  was  unendurable. 
The  one  was  harrassed  by  mental  suffering,  the  other  by 
physical  hardship.  Both  should  seek  a  remedy;  but  any 
step  toward  permanent  betterment  must  come  from  the 
rich.    Thej^  alone  had  the  power.    What  should  they  do? 

It  was  a  colossal  problem  which  Tolstoy  perceived  while 
writing  What  SJtall  We  Do  Thenf  In  the  final  analysis  it 
involved  the  task  of  changing  conditions  of  society. 

To  tear  down  the  modern  slavery ;  to  make  it  impos- 
sible for  part  of  mankind  to  profit  by  the  labor  of  the  rest. 
This  he  believed  was  necessary.  This  he  considered  the 
problem  of  poverty. 


1912]     Drury:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      185 


II 

We  have  found  Tolstoy's  conception  of  the  problem  of 
poverty.  Let  us  now  observe  how  he  fared  in  his  quest 
for  a  remedy. 

Even  within  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  we  find  assert- 
ing itself  the  mental  unrest  so  characteristic  of  Tolstoy. 
For,  having  answered  the  question  once  in  the  early  pages, 
he  still  casts  about  for  a  more  satisfactory  conclusion.  Thus 
a  second  answer  appears  at  the  end. 

The  first  solution  is  based  on  the  Biblical  text  from 
which  Tolstoy  derives  the  title  of  the  book : 

' '  And  the  people  asked  him,  saying,  What  shall  we  do  then  ? 

' '  He  answereth,  and  saith  unto  them,  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let 
him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none;  and  he  that  hath  meat,  let  him  do 
likewise. '  'i7 

This  saying  of  John  the  Baptist  is  emphasized  repeatedly 
by  Tolstoy.  He  tells  how,  ^\•hen  a  slave  owner,  he  tried  to 
exact  as  little  as  possible  from  his  serfs.  In  regard  to  the 
present  slavery  he  plans  a  similar  remedy,  stated  thus  by 
him:  "as  little  as  possible  to  urge  my  rights,  as  long  as  I 
am  not  able  completely  to  renounce  them,"  and  "at  the 
same  time  to  impress  upon  other  people  the  lawlessness  and 
inhumanity  of  their  imaginary  rights. "^^  This  is  Tolstoy's 
interpretation  of  the  words  of  John  the  Baptist. 

Having  taken  this  stand,  the  great  Russian  feels  he  has 
overcome  all  three  causes  of  his  powerlessness  to  help  the 
poor.  He  will  not  assert  the  power,  which,  as  a  landlord, 
he  has  over  his  tenants ;  he  will  refuse  to  press  the  advan- 
tage which  possession  of  money  gives  him  over  those  who 
have  none.  Where  possible,  he  will  give  alms.  Where  he 
can  avoid  it,  he  will  not  profit  by  the  institutions  which 
have  been  established  and  supported  by  the  violence  of 
militarism. 


IT  Luke  iii,  10,  11.     {What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  3). 
18  Ibid.,  p.  168. 


186  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 

The  second  time  that  Tolstoy  takes  up  the  question,  his 
answer  is  similar.  Now  he  presents  his  three-fold  pro- 
gramme of  conduct : 

So  these  are  the  answers  which  I  found  for  myself  in  reply  to 
the  question  What  shall  we  do? 

The  first :  not  to  lie  to  myself ;  no  matter  how  distant  my  path  of 
life  may  be  from  that  true  path  which  reason  opens  to  me,  not  to  be 
afraid  of  the  truth. 

The  second:  to  renounce  the  consciousness  of  my  righteousness,  my 
prerogatives,  my  privileges  in  comparison  with  other  men,  and  to 
recognize  myself  guilty. 

The  third:  to  fulfil  the  eternal  indisputable  law  of  man, — with  the 
labor  of  my  whole  being  to  struggle  with  Nature  for  the  purpose  of 
supporting  my  own  life  and  that  of  other  men.ia 

This  is  his  final  solution,  a  policy  of  Truth,  Humility, 
and  Labor.  After  he  had  found  these  answers  to  his  ques- 
tions, Tolstoy  implied  that  he  was  at  peace  with  himself 
and  the  world. 

That,  for  a  time  at  least,  seemed  true.  But  did  his 
remedy  extend  farther  than  his  own  mental  comfort? 
Wherein  did  it  meet  the  problem  of  poverty,  the  problem 
of  the  exploitation  of  labor? 

Let  us  take  his  first  answer,  his  application  of  the  words 
of  John  the  Baptist.  As  we  can  gather  from  his  text,  what 
he  really  provided  here  was  only  a  form  of  charity.  Even 
as  charity,  viewed  with  the  eyes  of  those  whom  Tolstoy  was 
seeking  to  aid,  be  they  the  rich  or  the  poor,  it  was  wholly 
inadequate.  Plainl}^  it  was  impracticable  and  highly 
idealistic.  Consider,  for  instance,  his  proposal  to  induce 
all  rich  men  to  follow  his  example,  in  refusing  to  take  the 
products  of  others'  labor.  Herein  lay  the  only  hope  of 
benefit  to  the  poverty  stricken.  But  at  last  even  Tolstoy 
despaired  of  accomplishing  anything  in  this  way.  We  may 
readily  agree  with  him  that  if  all  refused  to  press  the 
advantage  they  held  over  others,  great  good  would  be 
worked,  no  matter  what  the  organization  of  societj^;  but 


19  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  311. 


1912]    Drum:  Tolstoifs  "  ^Yhat  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      187 

such  an  arrangement  cannot  be  brought  about  automati- 
cally. Unfortunately,  the  plan  does  not  take  human  nature 
into  account.  Whatever  change  we  bring  about  must  be 
made  in  society  itself,  and  cannot  be  made  in  a  few  of  its 
individuals.  The  limitations  of  Tolstoy's  proposal  are 
obvious.  In  so  far  as  his  plan  is  one  of  social  reconstruction, 
it  would  be  inoperative ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  one  of  charity,  it 
would  not  extend  beyond  his  own  sphere  of  influence.  Like 
his  attempted  renunciation  of  his  estates  in  1887,-"  the  whole 
scheme  of  reform  is  mental  rather  than  material. 

But  if  the  first  answer  to  ' '  What  shall  we  do  ? "  embodies 
only  a  personal  solution,  the  second  reply  does  so  to  an 
even  greater  degree.  Consider  this  second  proposal.  We 
have  but  to  read  the  final  words  already  quoted  to  see  how, 
this  time,  the  Russian  nobleman  spoke  entirely  as  one  of 
his  own  class.  Doubtless  because  of  the  obstacles  that  on 
every  side  hindered  either  explanation  or  remedy  for  the 
evils  he  condemned,  Tolstoy's  point  of  view  shifted  even 
as  he  sought  his  answer.  The  book  began  with  the  inquiry : 
What  shall  we  rich  men  do,  in  order,  first,  to  remove  our- 
selves from  an  intolerable  position ;  and,  equally  important, 
to  relieve  those  who  are  victims  of  our  oppression?  But 
after  vain  strivings  of  thought,  the  writer  finds  in  the  end 
a  remedy  that  at  best  is  but  a  palliative  for  his  own  stricken 
conscience  and  perhaps  for  the  consciences  of  those  others 
of  his  class  whom  Tolstoy  believes  the  oppressors.  In  fact, 
the  manner  in  which  Tolstoy  dwells  on  the  benefits  to  him 
of  his  new  life  of  physical  labor,-^  only  goes  to  show  how 
extremely  personal  his  solution  really  is.  Both  answers  are 
of  the  same  nature.  And  whatever  value  they  may  have 
had  to  him,  they  were  woefully  inadequate  as  practical 
solutions  of  the  real  problem  of  poverty. 

For  this  inadequacy  there  were  many  reasons.     Tolstoy, 
at  the  time  of  writing  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  and  in 


20  Aylmer  Maude,  Life  of  Tolstoy   (New  York,  Dodd,  Mead  and 
Co.),  ii,  326,  327. 

21  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  300. 


188  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

fact  throughout  his  life,  was  subject  to  all  the  limitations 
of  a  man  of  over-active  mentality  and  over-abundant  sym- 
pathies. He  was  in  truth  a  poet  rather  than  an  analyst. 
In  his  ardor,  he  plunged  into  the  task  of  solving  problems 
without  stopping  to  classify  his  experiences  or  define  his 
terms.  And  although  he  condemned  Herbert  Spencer  for 
the  use  of  the  "standard  of  observation,"--  his  works  show 
that  it  was  practically  the  only  standard  that  he  himself 
attempted  to  apply.  The  things  he  met  with  in  his  daily 
life  were  the  things  that  moved  him  to  thought  and  inquiry. 
He  was  typically  Slavic  in  temperament;  his  sympathies 
were  too  often  predominant  in  his  reasoning. 

It  was  no  wonder,  then,  that  in  his  first  attempts  to  ex- 
plain social  phenomena  he  confused  the  figurative  and 
literal  meaning  of  terms;  that  he  challenged  the  division 
of  the  elements  of  production  made  by  economists  without 
pausing  to  learn  the  economic  definition  of  ' '  land. "  "  labor, ' ' 
or  "capital;"-^  that  he  failed  to  comprehend  the  scientific 
significance  of  the  phrase  division  of  labor  r'^  that  he  saw 
money  in  only  one  of  its  aspects ;  in  short,  that  he  displayed 
at  times  a  weakness  as  an  analyst  that  in  part  vitiated  clear 
thinking  and  made  his  task  of  finding  the  truth  the  more 
difficult. 

But  an  even  greater  limitation  lay  in  the  fact  that  his 
views  on  political  economy  were  affected  by  his  manifold 
opinions  on  other  subjects.  Typifying  a  nation  at  the 
stage  where  so  many  problems  have  rushed  simultaneously 
to  the  fore,  he  was  hedged  about  on  all  sides  by  personal 
beliefs  and  prejudices,  which  he  raised  to  the  level  of  truths 
of  universal  acceptance.  Some  of  his  convictions  were  per- 
sonal; some  were  national;  some  were  universal.  A  knowl- 
edge of  them  aids  greatly  in  an  interpretation  of  his  writ- 
ings. 


22  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  245. 

23  Ibid.,  p.  101. 
2*  Ibid.,  p.  249. 


1912]    Drunj:  Tolstoifs ''  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      189 

In  religion  he  was  a  "non-resistant;"  in  political  beliefs, 
he  was  a  "theoretical  anarchist."  Combined,  these  two 
ideas  explain  his  aversion  to  what  he  sums  up  in  the  one 
term  violence.  This  accounts  for  the  recurrence  of  this 
expression  throughout  Tolstoy's  works.  Every  restrictive 
action  of  the  government  he  looked  upon  as  an  infringement 
of  personal  rights.  His  was  the  extreme  individualism,  the 
reactionary  spirit,  always  found  in  communities  where,  as 
in  Russia,  governmental  restrictions  have  become  oppressive. 
Unable  to  discern,  as  in  a  measure  no  one  can,  the  distinc- 
tion between  things  of  evil  maintained  only  by  arbitrary 
force  of  the  police  or  army,  and  institutions  and  conventions 
developed  through  the  needs  of  society,  Tolstoy  opposed  all 
artificial  bonds  of  government.  Taxes  he  condemned,  not 
only  because  they  were  unjust  or  exorbitant,  but  also  be- 
cause in  any  form  they  were  to  him  a  tribute  exacted 
through  the  "threat  to  kill."-^ 

Akin  to  his  governmental  beliefs  was  his  view  of  the 
simple  life.  This  he  inherited  largely  from  Rousseau,  whom 
he  had  read  extensively,  and  from  Syutaev,  the  peasant 
writer  who  is  mentioned  in  WJiat  Shall  We  Do  Thenf^^ 
Opposing  most  "division  of  labor,"  Tolstoy  carried  his  in- 
dividualism to  an  almost  unheard  of  extreme.  To  all  in- 
tents and  purposes,  he  advocated  a  return  to  primitive 
society.  Thus  to  him,  as  to  Syutaev,-'  trade,  traffic,  pro- 
fessional engagements  and  the  like  were  immoral.  To  him 
the  great  city  was  an  abnormality.  To  him  the  natural  and 
productive  work  of  man  was  physical  labor.  Inevitably  this 
attitude  of  the  mental  anchorite  restricted  Tolstoy  in  his 
search  for  truth.  It  caused  him  to  overlook  the  need  of 
complexity  that  results  from  the  growth  of  the  social  order. 
Such  an  extremist  was  Tolstoy  in  this  regard  that  Chester- 
ton, contrasting  him  with  the  great  American  poet  of  nature, 


25  7&id.,  p.  142. 

26  76td.,  p.  78. 

27  Stepniak,  The  Sussian  Peasantry   (London,   George  Koutledge 
and  Sons,  1905),  p.  599. 


190  Universitij  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol,  1 

said  with  truth  :  ' '  Whitman  returns  to  Nature  by  seeing  how 
much  of  it  he  can  accept ;  Tolstoy  by  seeing  how  much  of  it 
he  can  reject."^* 

Tolstoy's  conception  of  science  and  art  was  narrowed 
in  much  the  same  way.  The  condemnation  of  these  two 
branches  of  human  activity  that  we  find  in  What  Shall  We 
Do  Then?  assumes  a  modified  aspect  when  viewed  in 
the  light  of  his  many  other  utterances,  but  there  still  is 
lacking  a  broad  comprehension  of  the  subject,  resulting  in- 
evitably from  his  extreme  doctrine  of  simplicity. 

"True  science,"  he  said,  "consists  in  finding  out  what 
we  should  believe,  and  what  not — in  finding  out  how  the 
aggregate  life  of  men  ought  to  be  arranged,  and  how 
not."^®  And,  similarly,  it  w^as  Tolstoy's  belief  that  "art 
should  be  simple  and  clear,  it  should  be  accessible  to  all 
men,  it  should  unite  men  instead  of  dividing  them. '  '^°  This 
ideal  of  the  direct  usefulness  of  art  and  science  to  mankind 
he  kept  constantly  before  him.  He  had  little  sympathy 
with  the  theory  of  "art  for  art's  sake. "^^  The  works  of 
other  writers  he  judged  more  by  their  "moral  founda- 
tions"^- than  by  their  literary  style.  While  admitting  the 
existence  of  ' '  true  science  and  true  art, '  '^^  he  condemned  as 
false  the  position  held  by  many  of  those  devoted  to  such 
activities,  maintaining  that  these  persons  do  not  fulfil  their 
obligations  to  humanity,  but  live  the  ' '  life  of  a  drone, '  '^*  con- 
tributing nothing  to  society.  The  true  artist,  he  contends, 
is  he  who  sustains  his  life  by  the  work  of  his  hands,  and 
"deprives  himself  of  hours  of  rest  and  sleep,  in  order  to 


28  Varied  Types  (New  York,  Dodd,  Mead  and  Co.,  1903),  p.  128. 

20  What  is  Art?,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1905), 
p.  338. 

30 George  E.  Noyes,  "Tolstoy  as  a  Man  of  Letters,"  University  of 
California  Chronicle,  vol.  xiii,  no.  2   (1911),  p.  161. 

31  Tolstoy,  Collected  Articles,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston, 
Estes,  1905),  p.  420. 

32  Noyes,  Tolstoy  as  a  Man  of  Letters,  p.  147. 

33  Tolstoy,  Collected  Articles,  p.  419. 
s*Ibid.,  p.  418. 


1912]     Drurij:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      191 

create  in  the  sphere  of  the  mind  and  the  imagination."^^ 
Thus  should  he  prove  his  calling.  "The  fruits  of  true 
science  and  true  art  are  the  fruits  of  sacrifice,  and  not  the 
fruits  of  certain  mental  prerogatives."^"  Such  is  Tolstoy's 
view. 

The  theory  thus  laid  down  by  the  Russian  philosopher, 
leaving  aside  his  undue  exaltation  of  physical  labor,  is  un- 
doubtedly sound  as  a  general  proposition.  It  is  only  in  his 
application  of  it  that  we  find  the  ideal  restricted  and  nar- 
rowed. In  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  for  instance,  we  find 
our  author  strangely  inconsistent  on  this  very  subject.  He 
sets  as  the  standard  of  art  and  science  a  willing  acceptance 
by  those  for  whom  the  activities  are  being  carried  on, 
namely,  by  all  the  members  of  society.  Undoubtedly,  there 
should  be  such  a  general  test ;  yet,  while  condemning  science 
as  the  charletan  of  privilege  and  art  as  a  parasite  "dining 
without  labor,  "^'^  Tolstoy  unhesitatingly  forms  his  judg- 
ment from  a  personal  rather  than  from  a  general  standard. 

Into  many  such  inconsistences  was  Tolstoy  led  by  his 
attempt  to  reconcile  all  his  extreme  beliefs.  As  an  indi- 
vidualist, he  was  opposed  to  most  of  the  collective  activities 
of  society;  as  one  of  the  "Cult  of  Simplicity, "^^  he  rejected 
them  as  unnatural.  Yet,  in  order  to  be  true  to  these  and 
other  ideals,  he  necessarily  restricted  his  point  of  view  in 
dealing  with  such  a  far-reaching  question  as  that  of  poverty. 

This  is  the  main  reason  why  Tolstoy  failed  to  advance 
a  satisfactory  solution  in  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  We 
cannot  but  feel  that  his  remedy  was  largely  personal;  that 
he  was  hampered  by  his  prejudices  and  beliefs ;  that  he  tried 
to  placate  his  conscience  while  still  striving  for  the  truth. 
He  satisfied  merely  his  own  misgivings.  For  the  world  the 
real  problem  remained. 


35  Ibid. 

36  Ibid. 

37  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  214. 

38  Gilbert  K.  Chesterton,  Varied  Types,  p.  128. 


192  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

But  there  is  no  need  to  stop  with  What  Shall  We  Do 
Then?  The  real  service  of  its  author  lay  in  the  fact  that 
in  it  he  drew  attention  so  forcibly  to  the  fact  that  there 
exists  a  problem  of  poverty.  Tolstoy,  as  we  have  noted, 
did  not  claim  to  be  the  author  of  any  particular  "teach- 
ing." His  entire  aim,  as  stated  by  himself,  was  to  find  the 
truth.  In  his  quest  for  the  true  solution  of  the  problem  of 
poverty  he  was  subject  to  many  hindrances.  He  did  not 
see  the  issue  clearly.  He  did  not  solve  the  problem  in  the 
work  we  have  been  considering.  But  he  saw  many  truths 
surrounded  it,  and  thus  opened  the  way  to  sounder  con- 
clusions and  clearer  thought. 

Ill 

What  was  the  real  problem  of  poverty  which  Tolstoy 
was  trying  to  solve? 

Life  is  a  thing  of  great  complexity.  Problems  seldom 
come  singly;  and  many  a  searcher  for  causes  has  lost  him- 
self in  the  vast  labyrinth  of  human  relations.  Tolstoy  him- 
self found  this  true  in  writing  What  Shall  We  Do  Then? 
Personal  limitations  hampered  him  on  every  side.  He  was 
inexperienced  in  defining  terms  and  classifying  phenomena. 
He  approached  the  subject  emotionally,  and  this  constantly 
led  him  astray.  When  he  saw  the  people  hedged  in  by  the 
different  kinds  of  Russian  police,  by  the  uryadniks,  isprav- 
niks,  and  stanavoys,  he  cried  out  against  what  he  called  the 
violence  of  any  form  of  government.  When  he  found  that 
for  the  loan  of  a  few  kopeks  the  peasantry  were  being 
charged  enormous  interest  by  the  village  usurers,  the 
kulaks,  he  denounced  indignantly  the  use  of  money  itself, 
and  condemned  it  as  a  thing  of  evil.  All  this  made  it  diffi- 
cult for  Tolstoy  to  observe  conditions  calmly,  and  obstructed 
his  search  for  truth. 

But  let  us  continue  the  quest  with  Tolstoy.  In  doing 
this,  let  us  make  use  of  some  of  his  observations  among  the 
poor  of  I\Ioscow.     Notice  that  he  found  two  main  classes: 


1912]    Drunj:  Tolstoy's  "  ^Vhat  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      193 

those  wlio  had  been  forced  into  their  position  by  oppression 
or  hardship,  and  had  come  "to  make  a  living  in  the  city  ;"^" 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  were  responsible  for  their 
own  downfall,  and  who  could  be  helped  only  by  "changing 
tlieir  world  conception,  "*°  their  mental  attitude.  Thus 
might  the  poor,  not  only  in  Russia,  but  everywhere,  roughly 
be  classified.  There  are  first  tlie  involuntary  poor,  and, 
second,  the  more  or  less  "voluntary"  paupers.  There  are 
those  who  are  in  want  because  of  conditions  over  which  they 
have  no  control,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  are  them- 
selves responsible  for  their  destitution. 

It  is  with  the  "voluntary"  poor  that  we  will  first  con- 
cern ourselves.  Neither  in  Russia  nor  elsewhere  can  the 
prevalence  of  these  be  determined  with  any  accuracy,  for, 
whatever  its  reason,  poverty  presents  itself  generally  in  the 
same  aspects.  It  may  indeed  be  traceable  in  many  instances 
to  mental  disease,  to  refusal  as  well  as  to  inability  to  work. 
But  in  all  probability  the  state  of  those  so  affected  was  in- 
duced by  a  preceding  stage  of  involuntary  poverty.  Those 
who  show  little  desire  to  support  themselves,  who,  as  the 
charity  workers  say,  are  "labor-shy,"  are  undoubtedly  in 
a  transitional  period.  Vice,  crime  and  slothfulness  are  as 
much  the  result  of  privation  as  they  are  the  cause  of  pov- 
erty. These  evils  can  be  dealt  with  effectively  by  the  social 
reformer  only  after  the  pressure  has  been  removed  that  has 
forced  a  steadily  increasing  number  into  the  involuntary 
class.  It  is  safe  to  conclude  that  among  the  indigent  of 
every  nation  those  wilfully  in  the  condition  pictured  by 
Tolstoy  are  a  negligible  quantity.  The  sociologist  tells  us 
that  the  great  class  to  be  reckoned  with  comprises  those  to 
whom  the  present  organization  of  society  has  denied  the  op- 
portunity of  turning  their  labor  to  tlieir  own  account.  The 
great  majority  are  the  involuntary  poor. 


39  What  SJwll  We  Do  Then?,  p.  70. 

40  Ibid.,  p.40. 


194  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

That  Tolstoy  saw  this  was  manifest,  since  he  devoted  his 
attention,  not  to  the  reasons  for  depravity  and  voluntary 
poverty — he  assumed  that  these  were  the  outcroppings  of 
a  perverted  social  order — but  to  the  question  of  the  unem- 
ployed, and  of  the  "exploitation  of  labor." 

The  real  problem  of  poverty  is  the  problem  of  involun- 
tary poverty.  It  is  the  problem  of  those  who  produce 
wealth,  and  who  do  not  secure  an  equitable  share  of  it. 
It  is  the  problem  of  those  who  are  able  and  willing  to  sup- 
port themselves,  but  who  are  not  given  a  fair  opportunity 
to  do  so.  Everywhere,  this  is  the  great  and  all-important 
question.  And  the  conclusion  must  come,  even  as  it  did  to 
Tolstoy,  that  the  trouble  lies  in  the  improper  and  imperfect 
distribution  of  the  products  of  labor;  in  his  words,  in 
''labor's  exploitation." 

Of  course,  modern  society  does  not  accept,  nor  does  it 
need  to  accept,  Tolstoy's  narrow  definition  of  lahor.  Phys- 
ical exertion  was  necessary  to  Tolstoy's  peace  of  mind. 
Therefore  he  declared  it  indispensable  to  everyone.  But 
as  respects  the  world  at  large,  he  is  nearer  right  when  he 
says  that  the  division  of  labor  is  "regular,  only  when  the 
special  activity  of  a  man  is  so  necessary  to  men  that  they, 
asking  him  to  serve  them,  themselves  offer  to  support  him 
for  what  he  will  do  for  them. '  '*^  Even  here  his  conclusion 
is  impaired  by  his  restricted  idea  that  physical  labor,  the 
producing  of  material  things,  is  the  only  form  of  real  work. 

The  mutual  relations  of  any  community  have  this  basis : 
that  there  shall  be  an  interchange  of  the  results  of  the  ef- 
forts of  all  the  members  thereof.  This  arrangement  is  recog- 
nized as  a  means  of  securing  greater  efficiency  in  specialized 
callings.  A  writer,  an  artist,  may  minister  to  no  direct 
physical  want,  but  under  many  conditions  either  is  as  much 
a  worker  as  a  tiller  of  the  soil.  If  an  arbitrary  power  forces 
the  productions  of  these  individuals  upon  the  people,  there 
is  just  cause  for  complaint.    This  is  what  Tolstoy  evidently 

••1  Ibid.,  p.  245. 


1912]     Drurij:  Tolstoifs  ''  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      195 

had  in  mind  when  he  attacked  art  and  literature;  this  is 
what  clouded  his  vision  on  the  subject.  But  if  the  com- 
munity's members  freely  exchange  the  products  of  their 
labor  for  the  results,  tangible  or  intangible,  of  the  efforts 
of  others,  it  is  not  a  question  of  "support"  of  one  by  the 
other ;  it  is  a  question  of  mutual  interchange.  For  all  nor- 
mal callings  there  is  ample  room  in  the  well  ordered  com- 
munity. 

Yet  it  goes  without  saying  that  this  ideal  will  lead  inevit- 
ably to  inequalities  of  society.  With  these  the  problem  of 
poverty  does  not  concern  itself.  There  have  been  theorists 
in  the  past,  builders  of  Utopias,  who  have  insisted  upon  a 
rigid,  equal  distribution  of  the  things  upon  the  earth ;  they 
were  the  communists,  whose  propaganda  has  been  generally 
discredited  as  being  impracticable,  unprogre&sive,  and  out 
of  harmony  with  the  modern  social  order.  The  problem  of 
today  involves  no  violation  of  the  natural  laws  which  pro- 
duce in  some  individuals  greater  aptitudes  and  capabilities, 
characteristics  which  normally  should  receive  a  reward, 
either  in  riches  or  renoAvn,  commensurate  with  services  ren- 
dered to  society.  This  is  the  true  democracy — the  "saving 
remnant ' '  may  be  recognized  today,  as  well  as  the  principle 
of  the  "unsound  majority,"  but  we  may  still  follow  "saints 
and  sages"  in  seeking  "whatsoever  things  are  just."*^ 
Society  today  concerns  itself,  not  with  an  equal,  but  with 
an  equitable,  distribution  of  the  bounties  of  nature  and  the 
fruits  of  labor. 

Poverty  is  the  lack  of  wealth.  Wealth  is  the  product  of 
labor  applied  to  natural  materials.  "In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  bread"  is  but  an  expression  of  the  nor- 
mal law  that  he  who  labors  should  secure  the  product  of 
his  effort.  It  is  for  the  community  to  decide  by  its  volun- 
tary acceptance  whether  the  activity  of  a  given  individual 
is  to  be  recompensed  as  labor.  It  is  for  the  community  to 
decide  the  value  of  that  activity.     And   it   is   with   the 


•*■-  Matthew  Arnold,  Discourses  in  America  (New  York,  Macmillan, 
1902),  p.  15. 


196  U niversity  of  California  Prize  Essays  [Vol.  1 

agencies  which  pervert  this  natural  lavr,  which  hamper  the 
distribution  of  wealth  as  the  reward  of  labor,  that  we  must 
concern  ourselves  if  v."e  are  to  find  the  true  problem  of  pov- 
erty. Such  agencies  are  responsible  for  unnatural  inequali- 
ties of  society. 

Thus  the  real  question  before  Tolstoy  becomes  apparent. 
It  does  not  concern  itself  with  voluntary  poverty.  It  has 
not  to  do  with  inevitable  inequalities  of  society.  It  relates 
primarily  to  involuntary  poverty,  arising  from  factitious 
and  unnatural  causes.  The  fundamental  problem  is  one  of 
removing  the  agencies  that  are  responsible  for  such  abnor- 
malities. 

Turning  now  to  the  Land  of  the  Tsar :  What  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  unnatural  inequalities  shown  in  What 
Shall  We  Do  Then?  To  find  the  causes  for  the  perversion 
of  Russian  society,  we  may  rely  upon  Tolstoy 's  observations, 
if  not  always  upon  his  conclusions. 

Tolstoy  saw  three  agencies  which  above  all  others  he 
arraigned  as  the  causes,  on  the  one  hand,  of  demoralizing 
wealth,  and,  on  the  other,  of  degrading  poverty.  In  his 
forceful  and  characteristic  way  he  likened  them  to  three 
screws  holding  down  a  plank  over  the  necks  of  the  people, 
keeping  them  in  bondage.*^  The  first  screw  was  personal 
enslavement  by  threat  of  execution;  the  second  and  third 
typified  impersonal  slavery — the  depriving  of  the  people 
of  their  land,  and  the  demand  for  "monetary  tokens  which 
they  do  not  have."**  Again  and  again  the  Avriter  attacks 
this  trio  of  evils.  "The  slavery  of  our  time,"  he  declares, 
"is  produced  by  militarism,  appropriation  of  land,  and  the 
exaction  of  money.  "*^  These  are  the  three  agencies.  Let 
us  consider  them  in  this  order:  first,  the  despotism  of  the 
government  or  what  Tolstoy  sums  up  in  the  one  term  vio- 
lence; second,  money;  and,  third  land  monopoly. 


«  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  141. 
**  Ibid.,  p.  142. 
*3  Ibid.,  p.  168. 


1912J     Drurij:  Tolstoifs  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      197 

How  is  the  problem  of  involuntary  poverty  in  Russia 
affected  by  the  element  of  governmental  "violence"?  As 
far  as  Tolstoj^'s  anarchistic  views  are  concerned,  we  may 
dismiss  the  consideration,  for  we  have  seen  that  in  this  re- 
gard he  was  an  extremist ;  but  in  so  far  as  the  term  refers 
to  despotism  of  the  ruling  powers  it  is  well  to  consider  it. 

In  Russia,  this  "violence"  manifests  itself  in  various 
forms.  Sometimes  it  takes  the  guise  of  militarism,  some- 
times that  of  exorbitant  taxes.  These  two  are  related,  as  it 
is  undoubtedly  the  cost  of  the  restrictive  policy  of  the  gov- 
ernment that  weighs  down  the  peasantry.  The  blight  of 
absolutism,  moreover,  affects  the  material  prosperity  of  the 
people,  both  in  the  villages  and  in  the  cities,  because  of  the 
very  fact  that  it  stifles  political  development  and  social 
betterment.  Democratic  reforms  are  badly  needed  in 
Russia.  The  autocratic  rule  of  the  Tsar  and  of  the  nobles 
helps  to  maintain  an  iniquitous  and  unnatural  economic 
structure.  This  is  inevitable,  since  the  privileged  classes  of 
Russia  are  the  officials.**^  In  this  respect,  particularly,  des- 
potism is  a  cause  of  poverty.  But  the  passing  of  political 
power  into  the  hands  of  the  people  would  not  necessarily 
bring  satisfactory  economic  conditions.  It  would  at  most 
be  only  a  step  in  that  direction.  We  have  not  here  the  real 
basis  of  the  problem  of  poverty. 

Let  us  take  Tolstoy's  second  cause.  We  have  seen  al- 
ready how  a  vague  defining  of  terms  and  an  incomplete 
grasping  of  economic  facts  affected  his  views  on  this  ques- 
tion of  money.  We  may  disregard  as  immature  and  un- 
sound his  conclusion  that  money  itself  is  a  thing  of  evil, 
just  as  we  may  discard  his  notion  that  money  represented, 
at  all  times,  the  exploitation  of  labor.  For  it  is  obvious  that 
money  commands  labor,  as  he  noted,  not  because  it  is  an 
instrument  of  oppression,  but  because  it  represents  wealth, 
the  end  of  labor.  The  evils  deplored  are  due,  not  to  the 
nature  of  money,  but  to  the  imperfect  distribution  of  wealth. 


46  Geoffrey  Drage,  Russian  Affairs  (Lornlon,  .John  Mvirray,  1904), 
p.  34. 


198  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

Tolstoy  speaks  of  oppression  of  the  people  through  the  ' '  de- 
mand for  monetary  tokens,  which  they  did  not  have.  "^'^ 
This  refers  to  both  taxes  and  rent.  So  far  as  it  relates  to 
an  inadequate  or  inflexible  currency,  as  was  really  the 
trouble  with  the  Fijians  whose  history  is  cited  in  What 
Shall  We  Do  ThenP^  the  problem  may  be  aggravated  there- 
by. For  it  is  generally  the  poor  w^ho  suffer  most  from  an 
unsound  monetary  system.  In  a  measure,  Tolstoy  had  been 
borne  out  in  this  by  commentators  who  have  noted  the  in- 
creased hardships  of  the  peasants  in  Russia,  coincident  with 
their  increasing  use  of  money.*'*  But  this  does  not  lie  at 
the  bottom  of  the  evil  of  poverty.  In  regard  to  taxes,  if 
the  money  taken  is  more  than  the  people  should  equitably 
pay,  we  have  a  clear  case  of  governmental  oppression ;  and 
in  the  instance  of  rent,  the  evil  is  not  due  to  money,  or  the 
lack  of  it,  but  to  the  institution  that  exacts  rent — to  land- 
lordism, which  we  shall  consider  presently.  It  is  not  money 
that  in  Russia  is  the  main  cause  of  poverty. 

There  remains  but  the  third  cause.  It  is  land  monopoly. 
This  is  a  question  fraught  with  significance,  for  its  roots 
extend  far  into  the  history  of  the  Slavic  peoples. 

That  Tolstoy  realized  the  bearing  of  the  land  question 
upon  the  problem  in  his  country  is  evident.  At  first  he 
saw  this  dimly,  but  as  his  researches  deepened  and  his  views 
broadened,  he  gained  a  clearer  vision.  Even  in  What  Shall 
We  Do  Thenf  he  shows  appreciation  of  the  significance  of 
this  question,  when  he  tells,  in  his  characteristic  way,  how 
he  "took  everything  necessary  away  from  the  village 
dwellers  and  transferred  it  all  to  the  city.  "^°  Tolstoy  may 
or  may  not  have  read  Carlyle's  bitter  paragraph  in  his 
French  Revolution,  describing  "a  widow  gathering  nettles 


*-  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  142. 
4s  Ibid.,  pp.  Ill  ff. 

49  Gerhart  von  Schulze-Gaevernitz,  VolJcswirtschaftliche  Studien 
aus  Bussland  (Leipzig,  Dunker  unci  Humblot,  1899),  p.  387;  Step- 
niak,  llie  Eussian  Peasantry,  p.  35. 

50  What  Shall  We  Do  Then  ?,  p.  77. 


1912]     Drury:  Tolstoy's  "What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"      199 

for  her  children's  dinner,"  and  ''the  perfumed  seigneur, 
delicately  lounging  in  the  Oeil-de-Boef,  who  by  the  alchemy 
of  rent  extracted  from  her  the  third  nettle,  "^^  but  we  can 
see  that  he  knew  how  this  same  alchemy  of  rent  enabled 
him  to  take  the  products  of  his  peasant  neighbors,  without 
return  beyond  permission  to  live  on  the  land.  Yet  in  his 
conscience  he  believed  that  they  had  a  better  title  than  he. 
For  Tolstoy,  after  his  awakening,  following  his  participa- 
tion in  the  taking  of  the  census  at  Moscow,  returned  abso- 
lutely to  the  ancient  Slavic  condition  that  the  land  justly 
belongs  to  the  person  who  tills  it. 

Tolstoy's  denunciation  of  money  and  government,  in- 
sisted on  in  his  earlier  writings,  was  almost  lost  sight  of 
later  when  he  appealed  to  the  customs  and  traditions  of 
his  race  regarding  land  tenure.  His  views  on  the  land 
question  developed  gradually,  but  surely.  It  was  after  his 
return  to  Yasnaya  Poliana,  after  his  sojourn  in  Moscow, 
that  his  eyes  were  opened  and  for  the  first  time  he  fully 
sensed  the  miseries  of  his  countrymen.  He  saw  the  sturdy 
muzhiks  oppressed  and  disinherited  by  the  seigneurs  who 
took  the  land."  preyed  upon  by  the  kulaks,^^  flogged  and 
practically  made  bond  servants^*  for  non-payment  of  exor- 
bitant taxes."  He  saw  the  utter  poverty  of  the  husband- 
men, compelled  to  sit  on  their  ''cats'  plots''^"  whilst  the 
enormous  estates  of  the  nobility  lay  in  waste  about  them." 
He  saw  but  an  insincere  attempt,  on  the  part  of  a  feeble 
autocracy,  to  effect  a  more  equitable  distribution  of  the 


51  French  Revolution  (London,  J.  M.  Dent  and  Co.,  1908),  i,  184. 

52  The  Russian  Peasantry,  pp.  107,  110  ff. 

55  Ibid.,  pp.  55  ff.,  83,  84;  Wolf  von  Schierbrand,  Russia,  her 
Strength  and  Weakness  (New  York,  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  1904), 
p.  120. 

5*  C.  Lehmann  und  Parvus,  Das  hungernde  Russland  (Stuttgart, 
J.  H.  W.  Dietz,  1900),  p.  455. 

^5  Ibid.,  p.  447;  The  Rus.sian  Peasantry,  pp.  43,  44;  Russia,  her 
Strength  and  Weakness,  p.  132. 

56  The  Russian  Peasantry,  p.  99. 

57  Ibid. 


200  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

land.^^  One  year  he  learned  that  one-fourth  of  the  people 
starved  in  the  villages  of  the  Samara  province,  yet  at  that 
very  time  millions  of  pods  of  grain  were  exported  from  that 
province  by  the  landlords.^"  He  knew  that  this  grain  was 
raised  by  the  labor  of  peasants.  Tolstoy  must  have  learned, 
moreover,  that  less  than  21  per  cent  of  the  land  was  being 
cultivated  in  European  Russia ;®°  that  if  all  the  Russian 
fields  were  cultivated  in  the  manner  of  those  of  Great 
Britain,  the  product,  instead  of  being  650  millions  of 
hecoliters  of  corn  annually,  would  be  about  five  millards, 
sufficient  to  feed  a  population  of  500  million  souls.®^ 

Throughout  the  nation  he  saw  outrageous  plundering  of 
the  public  domain  being  carried  on.  In  two  provinces 
alone,  one  million  dessiatins,  or  2,700,000  acres,  were  appro- 
priated by  the  nobility  and  inferior  functionaries.^^  It 
was  the  same  in  other  provinces.  He  witnessed  the  natives 
being  torn  from  their  "little  mother,"  the  land,  and 
through  the  kahala,  or  "winter  contracts,"*'^  into  which 
they  were  coerced  by  dire  need,  pressed  irretrievably  into 
the  ranks  of  the  hatraki,  the  Russian  tramps,  or  into  those 
of  the  landless  proletariat.^* 

Tolstoy's  sensitive  soul  quivered  as  he  observed  the 
terrible  results  of  this  ruthless  eviction.  Whereas  under 
serfdom  the  agricultural  laborers  had  given  only  three  days 
a  week  to  the  cultivation  of  their  masters'  estates,^^  after 
they  were  expelled  from  the  fields,  supposedly  "freed," 
they  were  driven  by  the  goad  of  want  into  laborious  occupa- 
tions almost  bevond  human  endurance.*'*'     Tolstoy  saw  the 


58  2716  Eiissia7i  Peasantry,  p.  100. 
BO/feifZ.,  p.  182. 
oolhid.,  p.  99. 

61  Elisee  Reclus,  The  Earth  and  its  Inhabitants,  edited  by  E.  G. 
Kavenstein  (New  York,  Appleton,  1898),  v,  458. 

62  I'he  Russian  Peasantry,  p.  180. 
6^  Ibid.,  p.  51. 

64  Ibid.,  p.  268. 

65  Ibid.,  p.  41 ;  Riissian  Affairs,  p.  88. 

66  The  Eitssian  Peasantry,  p.  265. 


1912]    Drurij:  Tolstoifs  ''What  Shall  We  Do  Thenf"      201 

mir,  the  ancient  and  traditional  village  commune  of  his 
people,  which  had  borne  so  proud  and  honorable  a  part  in 
the  life  of  the  nation,  degraded,  and  in  some  instances 
almost  extirpated.**^  He  saw  the  death  rate  in  thirteen 
provinces  reach  sixty-two  a  year  per  thousand. "'*  Through- 
out the  nation  the  rural  death  rate  hovered  continually 
about  the  abnormal  figure  of  thirty-three  per  one  thou- 
sand,****  while  the  infant  mortality  w^ent  as  high  as  263  in 
a  thousand. '^°  It  is  conceded  that  this  would  long  ago  have 
dejoopulated  the  country,  were  it  not  for  an  equally 
abnormal  birth  rate.^^  Tolstoy  could  not  help  seeing  all 
this,  and  he  voiced  a  vigorous  protest.  He  commented 
indignantly  on  how^  "the  working  people  live  in  constant 
need,  ignorance,  slavery,  and  contempt  of  all  those  whom 
they  dress,  feed,  provide  for  and  serve." 

"The  land,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  taken  away  from  them 
by  those  who  do  not  work  upon  it ;  thus  to  gain  his  sus- 
tenance from  it,  a  laborer  must  do  everything  which  the 
owners  of  the  land  demand  of  him. ' '"-  It  was  thus  that  he 
recognized  the  truth  so  forcefully  expressed  in  Stepniak's 
declaration:  "With  a  nation  of  hereditary  husbandmen  the 
land  question  is  the  question  of  life  and  death."" 

Many  Russian  w^riters  have  united  with  Tolstoy  in  tell- 
ing of  their  people's  dependence  upon  the  land.  This  idea 
is  prominent  in  the  works  of  Uspensky,  notably  in  his 
Ivan  Afanasiev;''*  it  is  dealt  with  by  Yanson,'^  Orlov,^**  and 


67  Ibid.,  p.  102. 
G8  Ibid.,  p.  87. 

69  Russian  Affairs,  p.  81. 

70  The  Bussian  Year  Boole,  edited  by  Howard  P.  Kennard   (Lon- 
don, Eyre  and  Spottiswoode,  1911),  p.  35. 

71  The  Bussian  Peasantry,  p.  87;  Bussian  Affairs,  p.  81. 

72  Tolstoy,  The  Only  Means,  in  Miscellaneous  Letters  and  Essays, 
translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1905),  p.  241. 

73  The  Bussian  Peasantry,  p.  625. 
Tilbid.,  p.  244. 

'5  Ibid.,  p.  73. 
■^albid.,  p.  119. 


202  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

Prince  Vasilchikov.'"  It  is  insisted  upon  as  all  important 
in  the  works  of  Stepniak.  The  significance  of  the  land 
question  is  given  especial  prominence  in  this  writer's  volume 
entitled  The  Russian  Peasantry.    In  this  work  he  says : 

"In  Eussia,  until  the  'economic  progress'  of  the  last  qviarter 
century  turned  millions  of  our  peasants  into  landless  proletarians,  they 
were  all  landowners.  Even  the  scourge  of  serfdom  could  not  depose 
them  from  this  dignity.  The  serfs,  who  gratuitously  tilled  the 
manorial  land,  had  each  of  them  freehold  land  which  they  cultivated 
on  their  own  account. '  '^s 

Indeed,  in  this  regard,  Professor  Enghelhardt,  in  his 
Letters  from  a  Village,  tells  of  this  tradition  being  so  strong 
that  many  of  the  former  seigneurs  learned  only  from  the 
Act  of  Emancipation  of  1861  that  the  land  on  which  these 
peasants  dwelt  belonged  to  the  nobility.'''*  It  is  also  narrated 
by  Stepniak  how,  when  serfdom  was  first  introduced  in 
Eussia,  the  newly  enslaved  peasants  found  less  difficulty 
in  realizing  the  fact  of  their  slavery  than  in  understand- 
ing a  law  which  allotted  the  land  to  those  by  whom  it  was 
not  tilled.  Greater  than  their  love  of  freedom  was  their  love 
of  the  land.  ''My  vashi,  zemlia  nasha!"  they  cried  to  their 
masters,  and  the  saying  rings  through  Russian  agrarian 
history:  "We  are  yours,  dut  the  land  is  ours!''^^ 

The  land  question,  then,  became  in  the  mind  of  Tolstoy, 
as  it  was  in  that  of  many  of  his  contemporaries,  the  fore- 
most problem  confronting  Russia.®^  It  was  here  that 
Tolstoy  finally  decided  that  he  must  find  his  remedy.  He 
had  striven  long,  and  had  been  brought  to  the  truth  by 
considerations  truly  Russian  in  their  nature.  ' '  Back  to  the 
Land"  was  the  burden  of  his  cry.  Here  was  the  real  cause 
of  the  misery  of  his  people — exclusion  from  the  land.  At 
last  he  saw  the  true  problem  of  poverty. 


"^  'J'he  Eussian  Peasantry,  p.  11. 

78  Ibid.,  p.  125. 

79  Ibid.,  pp.  125,  126. 
»o  Ibid.,  p.  12. 

81  Leo  Wiener,  Life  of  Leo  Tolstoy  (Boston,  Estes,  1905),  p.  302. 


1912]     Drunj:  Tolstoifs  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      203 

In  this,  as  in  other  things,  Tolstoy  proved  an  extremist. 
One  reason  for  his  awakened  interest  in  the  land  question 
was  his  well-known  belief  as  to  the  immorality  and  un- 
naturalness  of  all  life  in  cities.  But  whatever  else  impelled 
him,  his  foremost  reason  was  the  absolute  justice  of  allow- 
ing the  people  access  to  the  means  of  sustenance  of  w'hich 
they  had  been  robbed.  The  history  of  the  Russian  people 
shows  that  there  is  ingrained  in  the  character  of  the  race 
a  peculiar  attachment  to  the  soil,  which  made  their  wrong 
the  harder  to  bear,  when  they  were  shut  out  from  it.  Their 
serfdom  of  feudal  days  was  abolished;  but  in  a  new  form, 
more  aggravated  because  it  was  impersonal,  their  slavery 
still  remained.  Not  even  by  fleeing  to  the  cities  could  they 
escape.    Their  masters  were  the  landlords. 

In  our  o^\-n  country,  where  only  a  little  over  one-third 
of  our  workers  are  engaged  in  agriculture,*-  it  is  rather 
difficult  for  us  to  comprehend  fully  the  misery  caused  by 
land  monopoly  in  Russia.  There,  from  seventy-five  to 
eighty-two  persons  out  of  every  hundred  still  depend  for 
their  livelihood  upon  the  tilling  of  the  soil.^^  The  only 
other  nation  in  which  agriculture  is  to  any  degree  as  preva- 
lent as  in  Russia,  is  Ireland.  Ireland,  too,  has  been  racked 
for  centuries  by  agrarian  evils.^*  It  stands  to  reason  that 
similar  conditions  should  produce  similar  ills.  It  stands 
to  reason  that  people  will  be  driven  into  the  squalor  and 
filth  of  cities;  it  stands  to  reason  that  rich  men  will  con- 
tinue in  idleness  and  luxury,  absorbing  the  product  of 
others'  labor,  when  any  nation  upholds  a  system  under 
which  those  in  power  can  charge  their  fellowmen,  through 
rent,  for  the  privilege  of  earning  their  bread. 

In  a  nation  where  the  main  industries  are  those  of  manu- 
facturing and  commerce,  some  may  claim  that  the  question 


S2  statesman's   Year  Book,  edited  by   J.   Scott   Keltie    (London, 
Macmillan  and  Co.,  1911),  p.  300. 

83  Russian  Year  Book,  p.  33. 

84  Henry  George,  The  Land  Question  (New  York,  Doubleday,  Page 
and  Co.,  1904),  p.  23. 


204  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

of  poverty,  the  question  of  unemployment,  is  affected  more 
directly  by  laws  of  the  supply  and  demand  of  labor,  by 
the  control  of  machinery,  by  industrial  combination,  and 
by  like  circumstances,  than  it  is  affected  by  monopoly  of 
land.  But  in  a  country  where  the  main  pursuit  is  agri- 
culture, "with  a  nation  of  hereditary  husbandmen,"  we 
may  well  declare  with  Stepniak,  "the  land  question  is  the 
question  of  life  and  death.  "®^ 

In  Russia,  especially,  the  land  question  is  at  the  bottom 
of  the  problem  of  poverty. 


IV 


During  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century,  three 
great  thinkers  were  concerned  especially  wuth  the  question 
of  poverty.  They  were  Count  Leo  Tolstoy,  Victor  Hugo 
and  Henry  George.  All  saw  the  problem  more  or  less 
clearly  and,  in  the  end,  all  decided  that  the  solution  lay  in 
a  simple  remedy. 

Tolstoy  was  a  nobleman,  Hugo  was  of  the  bourgeoisie, 
but  George  had  known  what  it  was  to  live  in  terrible 
poverty.  Here  were  the  three  scales  of  social  organization 
represented  intellectually  by  men  engaged  independently 
in  the  same  investigation  of  the  same  problem.  Their  con- 
clusions are  necessarily  important,  but  the  real  significance 
of  these  is  that  they  are  practically  identical.  Viewed 
from  three  distinct  standpoints,  a  proposition  so  settled 
merits  investigation.  When  the  conclusions  of  three  great 
inquirers  into  the  problem  of  poverty  agree,  we  may  well 
be  led  to  their  belief  that  in  the  solution  of  the  land  ques- 
tion lies,  in  great  part,  the  settlement  of  the  problem. 

Tolstoy  the  Russian,  Hugo  the  Frenchman,  George  the 
American — these  were  the  men  who,  from  different  social 
levels,  from  different  reasoning  and  from  different  circum- 
stances arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  involuntary  poverty 


80  The  Bussian  Peasantry,  p.  625. 


1912]    Drury:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      205 

may  be  cured  and  that  an  equitable  adjustment  of  the  land 
question  is  the  remedy. 

Tolstoy's  growth  of  interest  in  the  problem  as  a  Russian 
question  has  been  outlined  already.  Let  us  turn  to  the  con- 
nection of  Victor  Hugo  with  the  investigation  of  poverty. 

Les  Miserahles  was  published  in  1862.  If  the  opening 
chapters  of  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?  are  a  survey  of  the 
conditions  among  the  Russian  poor,  Les  Miserahles  depicts 
the  life  of  the  poverty-stricken  of  France.  Although  it  is 
a  work  of  fiction,  although  Hugo  scorned  that  school  of 
"realists"  which  had  Zola  at  its  head,*®  yet  the  picture 
drawn  is  true  to  life.  The  book  has  well  been  termed  the 
"epic  of  poverty."  Here  was  Hugo's  investigation  of  the 
subject,  and  in  the  work,  although  it  may  be  essentially  a 
melodrama,  he  throws  out  suggestions  from  time  to  time  as 
to  the  solution  of  the  problem. 

"Democratize  property,"  he  says,  "not  by  abolishing, 
but  by  universalizing  it,  in  such  a  way  that  every  citizen 
without  exception  may  be  a  proprietor — an  easier  thing 
than  it  is  believed  to  be ;  in  two  words,  learn  to  produce 
wealth  and  learn  to  distribute  it,  and  you  shall  have 
material  grandeur  and  moral  grandeur  combined."^" 

The  great  Frenchman  does  not  explicitly  state  how  this 
adjustment  of  the  unequal  distribution  of  wealth  may  be 
attained,  but  he  does  enunciate  in  this  respect  an  important 
theory :  ' '  By  good  distribution  we  must  understand  not 
equal  distribution,  but  equitable  distribution.  The  highest 
equality  is  equity.  "^^  This  is  significant,  for  both  Tolstoy 
and  Henry  George,  coming  after  Hugo,  declared  for  such 
equitable  distribution,  rather  than  an  equal  division  of 
wealth.  This  latter  arrangement  they  regarded  as  neither 
practicable  nor  desirable. 


86  Alfred  Barbou,  Victor  Hugo,  His  Life  and  Wor]<:s,  translated  by 
Frances  A.  Shaw  (Chicago,  S.  C.  Griggs  and  Co.,  1881),  p.  197  ff. 

87  Les  Miserahles,  translated  by  Charles  E.  Wilbour   (New  York, 
A.  L.  Burt),  ii,  116. 

88  Ibid.,  ii,  114. 


206  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

It  was  almost  twenty  years  after  the  appearance  of 
Les  Miser ahles,  however,  that  Victor  Hugo  most  forcibly 
enunciated  his  opinions  upon  the  land  question.  In  a  dis- 
course at  the  Chateau  d'Eau  for  the  benefit  of  the  Work- 
man's Congress  at  Marseilles,  in  1879,  he  said:  "The  only 
question  at  this  hour  is  the  labor  question.  It  is  terrible, 
but  it  is  simple;  it  is  the  question  of  those  who  have  and 
those  who  have  not.  The  second  of  these  two  terms  must 
vanish.  .  .  .  Behold !  You  have  a  people  and  you  have  a 
world !  The  people  is  disinherited,  the  world  is  desert ; 
give  one  to  the  other  and  you  make  both  happy.  To  whom- 
soever wishes  a  field,  say,  'Take  it.'  The  earth  is  yours, 
cultivate  it.  "^^  Discounting  the  rhetoric  of  this  speech,  it 
can  still  be  seen  that  with  Hugo  the  labor  question  was  the 
land  question,  and  the  solution  of  the  land  question  implied 
to  him  the  remedy  for  involuntary  poverty. 

The  poet  viewed  with  extreme  optimism  the  future  of 
mankind  as  a  result  of  the  solution  of  the  land  question. 
"All  the  earth  belongs  to  all  men,"  he  proclaimed.  "There 
will  no  longer  be  any  unfortunate  save  those  who  persist 
in  their  resolve  to  do  nothing,  and  these  will  grow  less  in 
number,  thanks  to  the  salutary  teachings  that  will  be  given 
them.  The  future  appears  radiant  because  it  is  impossible 
for  the  immense  conflict  and  labor  of  past  ages  to  remain 
eternally  unproductive. '  "*" 

These  words,  prophesying  the  dawn  of  a  fairer  day  for 
humanity,  were  uttered  in  1879.  In  that  year  was  published 
a  notable  book,  Progress  and  Poverty.  This  was  the  master- 
work  of  Henry  George,  whose  investigation  of  the  great 
question  merits  careful  examination.  For  not  only  did 
George  declare  with  Hugo  that  the  making  of  every  citizen 
a  proprietor  is  an  "easier  task  than  it  may  be  supposed," 
but  he  did  what  the  poet  had  not  attempted — he  came 
forward  with  a  specific  plan  to  accomplish  this,  the  uni- 


8»  Barbou,  Victor  Bugo,  pp.  191,  192. 
90  Ibid.,  p.  196. 


1912]     Drunj:  Tolstoy's ''  ^Y]lat  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      207 

versal  application  of  which  he  declared  would  dissolve  the  ' 
heavy  cloud  of  poverty  lowering  over  modern  civilization. 
His  remedy  was  stated  in  a  simple,  direct  manner,  yet 
explicitly.  George  saw  conditions  and  stated  facts  more 
exactly  than  the  other  two  thinkers.  For  Henry  George 
was  a  scientist,  just  as  Hugo  was  essentially  a  poet  and 
Tolstoy  a  moralist  philosopher. 

In  dire  poverty  in  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  unable  to 
get  work,  George  was  forced  by  necessity  to  a  consideration 
of  this  problem.  Tolstoy  and  Hugo  in  pity  and  compas- 
sion, George  in  fierce  question — all  took  up  the  solution  of 
the  great  economic  evil. 

"Why,"  asked  Plenry  George,  "am  I  refused  the  right 
to  employment,  despite  my  willingness  to  work?  Why, 
while  our  country  grows  in  material  progress,  does  poverty 
appear  to  increase  likewise?"  As  the  Russian  count 
queried,  "What  shall  we  rich  men  do?",  so  the  American 
worker  demanded,  ' '  What  are  we  poor  men  to  do  ? " 

His  answer  to  that  question  was  Progress  and  Poverty. 
AVlien  he  had  risen  in  the  social  scale  through  his  own 
irresistible  genius,  he  set  about  the  writing  of  this  book. 
It  was  published  in  1879.  Soon  afterward,  he  removed  to 
New  York  City,  where  he  became  a  leader  and  a  power  for 
good.  Nevertheless,  he  was  the  antithesis  of  the  demagogue, 
usually  pictured  as  the  labor  leader.  At  a  great  public 
meeting  while  he  was  a  candidate  for  mayor,  he  was  asked : 
"Are  you  for  the  working  man?"  He  realized  the  serious 
import  of  the  question.  "No!"  said  he  gravely,  "I  am 
for  Man!"®^    Such  was  Henry  George. 

In  one  of  his  many  forceful  examples,  this  economist 
says :  ' '  Place  one  hundred  men  on  an  island  from  which 
there  is  no  escape,  and  whether  you  make  one  of  these  men 
the  absolute  owner  of  the  other  ninety-nine,  or  the  absolute 
owner  of  the  soil  of  the  island,  will  make  no  difference 


91  Louis  F.  Post,  The  Prophet  of  San  Francisco   (Chicago,  L.  S. 
Dickey  and  Co.,  1904),  p.  47. 


208  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

either  to  him  or  to  them."''-  That  was  the  cause  of  indus- 
trial slavery,  as  he  saw  it— landlordism,  the  appropriation 
by  a  few  of  the  heritage  of  the  many.  For  he  held,  as  we 
have  noted  that  the  Russian  people  believe,  that  the  land  is 
a  gift  of  God  to  humanity,  even  as  are  the  air,  the  water  and 
the  sun.  Holding  his  faith  in  a  just  God,  he  could  not 
concede  that  landlordism  is  anything  but  a  man-made 
institution.  The  land  question,  then,  was  in  his  mind 
inseparably  linked  with  the  problem  of  involuntary  poverty, 
as  it  had  been  in  the  mind  of  his  predecessor,  Hugo. 

But  this  truth  was  not  discovered,  after  all,  by  Henry 
George  or  Victor  Hugo.  From  the  very  beginning  of 
recorded  human  thought  the  evil  of  land  monopoly  has  been 
recognized  and  proclaimed.  From  the  time  that  Tiberius 
Gracchus  cried  out  in  anger  that  the  beasts  in  Italy  had 
their  dens,  but  that  the  men  who  bore  arms  for  the  state 
had  nothing  more  in  it  but  the  air  and  light,**^  till  the  day 
when  the  volunteer  army  returned  to  England  from  the 
Boer  War  and  found  themselves  unable  to  get  work,  unable 
to  find  land  to  live  on — from  the  days  of  Rome  and  Greece 
to  the  present  time,  the  solution  of  the  land  question  has 
concerned  philosophers,  reformers,  and  philanthropists. 

We  may  hear  the  note  of  protest  in  the  words  of  the 
Savior:  "Foxes  have  holes  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have 
nests,  but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head. '  '"* 
The  early  Christian  scholars  saw  the  situation  clearly. 
From  Lactantius  in  his  Divine  Institutes'^  down  to  Pope 
Gregory  the  Great  in  his  Cura  Past  oralis, ^^  they  condemned 


0^  Progress  and  Poverty   (New  York,  Doubleday,  Page  and  Co., 
1904),  p.  47. 

^^  Life   of   Tiberius    Gracchus,   in   Plutarch's   Lives    (New   York, 
Athenaeum,  1905),  iv,  515. 

9*  Luke  ix,  58;  Matthew  viii,  20. 

»5  The  Ante-Nicene  Fathers,  edited  by  the  Kev.  Alexander  Eoberts 
(Buffalo,  Christian  Literature  Pub.  Co.,  1885),  vii,  141. 

»o  Patrologia  Latina,  edited  by  J.  P.  Migne  (Paris,  J.  P.  Migne, 
1902),  Ixxvii,  87. 


1912]     Dniru:  Tolstoy's  ''  AVhat  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      209 

land  monopoly  as  contrary  to  divine  law.  Maine^'  and 
Blackstone,"®  with  other  authorities  on  ancient  law,  declare 
that  in  the  beginning  there  was  no  legal  right  to  private 
property  in  land. 

In  early  England,  the  evil  was  seen  and  denounced.  "A 
landless  man  is  an  unfree  man,  "^^  is  an  ancient  Anglo- 
Saxon  proverb.  And  down  to  modern  times,  a  long  line  of 
thinkers — Spinoza,^""  Marmontel,^"^  Rousseau,^**-  and  Rus- 
kin^°^ — these  and  a  great  many  others  assert  that  the  prin- 
ciple of  access  to  the  land  should  be  the  universal  rule,  and 
that  this  right  is  the  natural  heritage  of  all. 

Carlyle  declared  that  "properly  speaking,  the  land 
belongs  to  these  two :  to  the  almighty  God  and  to  all  his 
children  of  men."^°*  There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  what 
Jefferson  meant  when  he  said^"^  that  the  earth  belongs  in 
usufruct  to  the  living.  "The  world  is  God's  bequest  to 
mankind,"  once  wrote  Herbert  Spencer.  "All  men  are 
joint  heii-s  to  it ;  you  amongst  the  number. '  '^^*^ 

A  truth  maj'  exist  for  a  time  unaccepted,  but  no  great 
verity  can  long  remain  obscured.  The  history  of  the  ques- 
tion under  consideration  proves  this.     That  the  system  of 


0"  Sir  Henry  S.  Maine,  Village  Communities  in  the  East  and  West 
(London,  John  Murray,  1876),  pp.  76,  77. 

98  Commentaries,  edited  by  Chitty  (New  York,  W.  E.  Dean,  1844), 
vol.  i,  bk.  ii,  p.  2. 

99  The  New  Encyclopedia  of  Social  Heforvx,  edited  by  Wm.  P.  Bliss 
(New  York,  Funk  and  Wagnalls,  1908),  p.  693. 

100  Worls  of  Spinoza,  translated  by  E.  H.  M.  Elwes  (London, 
George  Bell  and  Sons,  1883),  i,  319. 

101  Discours  Academiques,  in  Oeuvres  (Paris,  Verdiere,  1819),  x,  56. 
^02  Discours  sur  I'inegalite,  in  Oeuvres  (Paris,  Thomine  et  Fortic, 

1823),  i,  287. 

103  Letters  to  M.  G.  and  H.  G.  (New  York,  Harper  and  Bros., 
1903),  pp.  78,  79;  E.  T.  Cook,  The  Life  of  Buskin  (New  York,  Mae- 
millan,  1911),  ii,  575. 

T-oiPast  and  Present  (New  York,  H.  M.  Caldwell  Co.),  p.  170. 

105  The  Writings  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  edited  by  Andrew  A.  Lips- 
comb (Washington,  Thomas  Jefferson  Memorial  Assn.,  1903),  vii,  455. 

^or.  Social  Statics  (New  York,  Appleton  and  Co.,  1865),  p.  136; 
Henry  George,  A  Perplexed  Philosopher  (New  York,  Doubleday, 
Page'aud  Co.,  1904),  p.  5. 


210  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

landlordism  is  opposed  to  natural  laws  is  the  solemn  con- 
clusion of  all  thinkers  upon  the  rights  of  manl^ind.  Land, 
they  say,  is  a  common  heritage  of  humanity,  and  any  system 
that  puts  the  disposition  of  the  earth  into  the  hands  of  the 
few  to  the  exclusion  of  the  many  is  an  unnatural  perver- 
sion. The  evil  of  land  monopoly  has  been  universally 
recognized. 

Now  comes  the  question :  How  may  the  blight  of  land- 
lordism be  removed  ? 

Even  as  the  evil  was  recognized  in  earliest  times,  so 
there  has  been  a  constant  search  for  a  remedy.  The  ancient 
plans  were  for  the  most  part  attempts  to  distribute  land 
equally.  Such  were  the  efforts  at  reform  by  the  Gracchi^°'^ 
in  Rome,  and  by  Lycurgus^°^  and  Cleomenes  in  Sparta."^ 
Such  was  the  plan  of  the  Jews  for  reapportioning  the  lands 
of  the  tribes  every  fifty  years  at  the  Jubilee. ^^'^  Such  was 
the  method  of  tanistry  in  Ireland. ^^^  These  were  all  more 
or  less  crude  attempts  at  a  just  settlement  of  the  land 
question.  They  involved  an  arbitrary  division  of  the 
land,  which,  while  perhaps  for  a  time  beneficial  to  the 
majority,  could  not  be  established  on  a  permanent  basis. 
These  plans  always  entailed  injustices  that  counterbalanced 
any  good  effected.  They  brought  at  most  only  temporary 
relief.  And,  aside  from  this,  however  applicable  such  sys- 
tems may  have  been  to  other  ages  and  conditions,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  they  would  prove  ineffectual  at  the 
present  day. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  plans  already  mentioned,  and,  in 
fact,  all  systems  of  state  ownership,  land  nationalization, 
or  attempted  equal  division  of  land,  are  ill  fitted  for  any 


lOT  Plutarch,    Life   of   Tiberius    Gracchus,   in   Lives    (New   York, 
Athenaeum,  190.5),  iv,  513. 

108  Plutarch,  Life  of  Lycurgus,  ibid.,  i,  93. 
100  Plutarch,  Life  of  Cleomenes,  ibid.,  iv,  477. 

110  Frederick     Verinder,     My    Neighbor's     Landmark     (London, 
Andrew  Melrose,  1911),  p.  49  ff". 

111  Edmund  Spenser,  History  of  Ireland,  in  Ancient  Irish  Histories, 
edited  by  Ware  (Dublin,  Hibernia  Press,  1809),  i,  10. 


1912J     Drurij:  Tolstoy's ''  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      211 

but  the  most  primitive  conditions  of  society.  We  must 
seek  a  more  practicable,  if  not  a  more  equitable  plan. 
Indeed,  of  recent  years  there  has  been  proposed  a  new 
system  to  remedy  the  evils  of  landlordism,  one  which  has 
been  widely  accepted.  Its  most  eminent  exponent  was 
Henry  George. 

In  his  numerous  writings,  George  developed  a  complete 
philosophy  on  the  subject  of  land  ownership.  Like  Tolstoy, 
he  deplored  the  division  of  mankind  into  extremes  of 
poverty  and  riches.  Like  the  Russian,  he  ascribed  this  to 
the  fact  that  "labor  is  robbed.""-  He  agreed  with  Tolstoy 
that  the  poor  and  rich  alike  are  victims  of  the  present 
system  of  society.  And  Henry  George  fearlessly  declared 
that  the  great  reason  for  involuntary  poverty  is  monopoly 
in  land. 

The  remedy  proposed  by  George  was  to  "make  land 
common  property.""^  But  he  did  not  desire  to  do  this  by 
abolishing  the  private  possession  of  land.  That,  he  believed, 
should  remain,  an  incentive  to  individual  enterprise  in 
improvement  of  property.  His  plan  was  simpler  than  to 
establish  government  ownership  in  an  absolute  sense.  Ac- 
cording to  him  we  may  best  assert  the  common  right  to 
land  by  taking  "rent  for  public  uses.""*  This  can  be  done 
without  disturb|)ig  present  customs  and  habits  of  thought, 
or  extending  needlessly  our  governmental  machinery.  ' '  We 
already  take  some  rent  in  taxation.  We  have  only  to  make 
some  changes  in  our  modes  of  taxation,  to  take  it  all.""^ 
His  plan,  then,  was  for  the  government  "to  aboli.sh  all 
taxation  save  that  upon  land  values.""^ 


112  Henry  George,  The  Condition  of  Labor,  in  Complete  Works, 
edited  by  Henry  George,  Jr.  (New  York,  Doubleday,  Page  and  Co., 
1904),  iii,  92. 

'^'^3  Progress  and  Poverty  (New  York,  Doubleday,  Page  and  Co., 
1904,  p.  401. 

114 /6td.,  403. 

115  7&!d. 

116  iMd.,  404. 


212  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

The  system  of  taxation  proposed  by  Henry  George  is 
best  summed  up  in  his  own  words: 

' '  We  propose  ....  leaving  land  in  the  private  possession  of  indi- 
viduals, with  full  liberty  on  their  part  to  give,  sell,  or  bequeath  it — 
simply  to  levy  on  it  for  public  uses  a  tax  that  shall  equal  the  annual 
value  of  the  land  itself,  irrespective  of  the  use  made  of  it,  or  the 
improvements  on  it.  And  since  this  would  provide  amply  for  the  need 
of  public  revenues,  we  would  accompany  this  taxation  on  land  values 
with  the  repeal  of  all  taxes  now  levied  on  the  products  and  processes 
of  industry — which  taxes,  since  they  take  from  the  earnings  of  labor, 
we  hold  to  be  infringements  of  the  rights  of  property,  "n^ 

Speaking  of  the  result  of  this  "single  tax,"  he  said: 

' '  Taxes  on  land,  irrespective  of  improvement,  cannot  lessen  the 
rewards  of  industry,  nor  add  to  prices,  nor  in  any  way  take  from  the 
individual  what  belongs  to  the  individual.  They  can  take  only  the 
value  that  attaches  to  land  by  the  growth  of  the  conununity,  and  which 
therefore  belongs  to  the  community  as  a  whole. 

"To  take  land  values  for  the  state,  abolishing  all  taxes  on  the 
products  of  labor,  would  therefore  leave  to  the  laborer  the  full 
produce  of  labor  ....  It  would  impose  no  burden  on  industry,  no 
check  on  commerce,  no  punishment  on  thrift ;  it  would  secure  the 
largest  production  and  the  fairest  distribution  of  wealth,  by  leaving 
men  free  to  produce  and  to  exchange  as  they  please,  without  any 
artificial  enhancement  of  prices,  "us 

"We  cannot  here  examine  the  plan  in  all  its  details.  Yet 
this  must  be  said  for  the  Single  Tax :  It  is  the  only  system 
treating  with  the  land  question  now  before  the  world  that 
attempts  to  adjust  automatically  the  inequalities  which  exist 
in  the  distribution  of  wealth.  This  is  an  important  point. 
No  change  in  modern  social  conditions  nor  in  governmental 
structure  would  be  required  to  put  it  into  operation.  No 
complicated  arrangement  would  be  needed  to  carry  it  out ; 
the  existing  tax-collecting  machinery  would  be  sufficient. 
The  laws  would  not  be  changed,  except  that  they  would 
provide  that  all  revenue  for  national,  state,  and  city 
expenses  should  be  raised  on  land  values.    Finally,  no  one 


ii'^  The  Co7iditio7i  of  Labor,  p.  8. 
^i»  Ibid.,  p.  13. 


1912]     Drury:  Tolstoxfs  "What  Shall  We  Do  Then?"      213 

would  be  denied  the  possession  of  the  land  he  now  holds, 
if  he  deemed  it  to  his  interest  to  keep  it.  Landlords  would 
not  necessarily  disappear.  Only  injurious  landlordism 
would  be  abolished.  The  tax  on  land  values  is  to  be  imposed 
with  the  primal  idea  that  the  rich  will  under  it  be  unwilling 
and  unable  to  maintain  large  landed  estates  uncultivated 
or  out  of  use,  keeping  them  away  from  those  who  have  a 
natural  right  to  use  of  land;  nor  will  they  be  able  to  hold 
land  idle  for  speculation. 

So  much  for  the  theory  of  the  Single  Tax.  But  the  plan 
has  been  more  than  a  theory.  The  philosophy  of  Henry 
George  is  a  potent  factor  in  the  world  today.  Those  who 
believe  in  his  teaching  do  not  form  a  party;  in  fact,  they 
belong  to  every  shade  of  political  opinion.  "The  influence 
of  Henry  George  throughout  Europe,"  says  Professor 
Kobert  Braun  of  Buda-Pesth,  Hungary,  "is  today  greater 
than  that  of  any  of  his  countrymen — greater  in  Europe 
than  in  the  land  of  his  birth, '  '^^^  It  is  acknowledged  that  the 
doctrines  of  Henry  George  were  responsible  for  the  British 
Land  Values  Budget  of  1909,  which  was  passed  through  the 
able  advocacy  of  such  men  as  Lloyd  George,  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer,  In  Canada,  New  Zealand,  Australia, 
South  Africa,  Denmark,  Sweden,  Germany,  Switzerland, 
the  United  States — in  fact,  throughout  the  whole  world, 
there  has  been  a  steady  trend  toward  the  adoption  of  the 
Land  Values  Taxation  system.  It  is  in  actual  and  success- 
ful operation,  in  various  forms,  in  Great  Britain  and  in 
many  of  the  cities  of  Western  Canada,  of  New  Zealand  and 
Australia,  and  of  Germany,  A  system  that  has  spread  so 
rapidly  in  the  comparatively  short  space  of  thirty  years  is 
worthy  of  more  than  passing  remark,  especially  since  in  no 
ease  has  its  application  proved  anything  but  beneficial. 

Coming  from  general  principles  to  the  specific  problem 
of  land  reform  in  Russia,  let  us  enquire  whether  this  plan 


^'^^  Single  Tax  Eeview,  x,  41   (February,  1910). 


214  University  of  Calif orriia  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

could  be  applied  there.  Fortunately,  Tolstoy  himself  has 
answered  the  question. 

After  a  long  study  of  social  and  economic  conditions 
Tolstoy  became  an  ardent  supporter  of  the  theory  of  Henry 
George.  He  said  in  one  of  his  letters,  ' '  I  have  known  Henry 
George  ever  since  the  appearance  of  his  Social  Frohlems. 
I  read  the  book  and  was  struck  by  the  correctness  of  his 
fundamental  idea,  and  also  by  the  exceptional  clearness, 
popularity,  and  force  of  expression,  the  like  of  w^hich  cannot 
be  found  in  scientific  literature,  and  especially  by  that 
Christian  spirit,  also  exceptional  in  scientific  literature, 
with  which  the  whole  book  is  permeated.  After  reading 
this  book,  I  went  back  in  time  and  read  his  Progress  and 
Poverty  and  still  more  appreciated  the  significance  of 
Henry  George's  activity. "^-° 

That  Tolstoy,  while  writing  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?, 
had  no  accurate  knowledge  of  George's  work  is  evident 
from  his  reference  in  this  book  to  the  Single  Tax  as  a  "  plan 
of  land  nationalization, '  '^-^  which  he  thought  did  not  strike 
deep  enough.  He  later  changed  his  opinion  both  as  to  the 
character  of  the  plan  advocated  by  George  (which  is  not 
"land  nationalization")  and  as  to  its  efficacy  in  improving 
present  conditions  of  society. 

Throughout  his  later  writings,  Tolstoy  shows  his  un- 
qualified approval  of  the  Single  Tax.  In  Resurrection  he 
has  Nekhl>Tidov  say,  ' '  All  the  land  is  a  common  possession. 
Everybody  has  an  equal  right  to  it.  But  there  is  better 
and  worse  land,  and  everyone  wants  to  get  the  good  land. 
What  is  to  be  done  in  order  to  equalize  things?  Let  him 
who  owns  a  piece  of  good  land  pay  the  price  of  it  to  those 
who  have  none."^--  And  he  goes  on  to  explain  the  theory 
of  Henry  George. 


120  Two  Letters  on  Eenry  George,  in  Works  (Boston,  Estes,  1905), 
xxiii,  396. 

121  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  p.  157. 

'^"  Eesurrection,  translated  by  Leo  Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1904), 
p.  339. 


1912]     Brury:  Tolstoy's  "  W/ia^  ^liall  We  Do  Tlienf"      215 

In  1897,  upon  the  accession  of  Nicholas  II,  Count  Tolstoy 
said :  "  If  the  new  Czar  were  to  ask  me  what  I  should  advise 
him  to  do,  I  should  say  to  him :  Use  your  autocratic  power 
to  abolish  landed  property  in  Russia,  and  to  introduce  the 
Single  Tax  system,  and  then  give  up  your  power  and  give 
the  people  a  liberal  constitution.  "^^^ 

There  are  many  other  references  to  Henry  George  in  the 
writings  of  Tolstoy,  but  his  greatest  work  upon  this  subject 
was  a  long  letter  to  the  London  Times,  which  appeared  in 
the  issue  of  August  1,  1905.  It  at  once  aroused  widespread 
interest  throughout  the  world.  In  this  letter,  which  was  sub- 
sequently issued  in  pamphlet  form  under  the  title  of  A 
Great  Iniquity,  Tolstoy  explicitly  approved  the  Single  Tax 
plan  and  quoted  extensively  and  appreciatively  from 
George's  works.  "People  do  not  argue  with  the  teaching 
of  George,"  he  said,  ''they  simply  do  not  know  it.  .  .  .  He 
who  becomes  acquainted  with  it  cannot  but  agree. '  '^-*  This 
was  his  final  tribute  to  Henry  George.  Twenty  years  earlier 
Tolstoy  had  asked  the  question,  "What  shall  we  do?"  and 
now  he  answered  it.  He  was  unselfish  enough  to  acknowl- 
edge the  truth  of  another  man's  answer  to  a  question  which 
he  himself  had  long  sought  in  vain  to  solve. 

The  real  problem  of  poverty  placed  before  us  by  the 
Russian  philosopher  was  the  problem  of  involuntary  pov- 
erty. He  saw  that  the  condition  of  the  poor  in  Russia  was 
brought  about  by  agencies  that  perverted  natural  laws  and 
produced  abnormal  inequalities  in  society.  In  his  own 
nation  the  greatest  of  such  hurtful  agencies  was — and  is — 
land  monopoly.  That  the  disinheritance  of  the  people  which 
has  taken  place  in  Russia  is  an  evil  of  society  everywhere, 
has  been  confirmed  by  testimony  worldwide  and  ages  long. 
Searching  for  a  specific  way  to  free  from  such  an  injury  the 
Russians  and  the  people  of  the  world,  we  have  found  but 


^-^Progressive  Review,  i,  419,  note  (August,  1897). 
124  A  Great  Iniquity,  translated  by  Tchertkoff   (Chicago,  Public 
Publishing  Co.,  1908),  p.  21. 


216  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         U^^-  ^ 

one  fundamental  plan,  and  that  a  method  admitted  and 
endorsed  by  Tolstoy. 

We  need  not  fall  into  the  error,  however,  of  thinking 
that  it  is  possible  to  bring  the  Millenium  by  an  act  of  the 
Duma  at  St.  Petersburg.  Neither  the  Single  Tax  nor  any 
one  remedy  would  prove  a  panacea  for  the  ills  of  Eussia. 
Once  equitable  access  to  the  land  is  gained,  further  reforms 
must  necessarily  follow.  There  are  evils  in  Russia  other 
than  those  growing  out  of  land  monopoly.  In  its  widest 
interpretation  the  problem  that  Tolstoy  suggests  involves 
more  than  poverty  and  riches.  For  the  final  redemption 
there  vrill  be  needed  more  than  a  readjustment  of  economic 
distribution. 

But  things  must  come  in  turn.  The  world's  trend  is 
from  the  material  to  the  spiritual.  The  settlement  of  the 
land  question  in  Russia,  or  in  any  other  country,  may  be 
but  a  step.  Yet  it  is  a  vitally  necessary  step.  In  recognizing 
this,  we  find  for  our  problem  its  true  and  ultimate  solution. 

CONCLUSION 

In  a  book  on  What  Tolstoy  Taught,  Bolton  Hall  aptly 
says,  "Most  persons  want  to  get  a  clear  impression  of  the 
matured  views  of  the  Prophets,  not  of  how  they  developed 
changed  and  were  often  recanted.  Many  of  the  apparent 
contradictions  that  confuse  us  in  the  doctrines  of  the  great 
are  simply  questions  of  time,  and  are  due  to  expression  of 
opinions  afterwards  changed.  "^^° 

It  has  been  our  duty  to  seek  out  the  ultimate  opinions  of 
this  philosopher.  During  the  last  years  of  his  life,  Tol- 
stoy was  imbued  with  the  ideals  of  Henry  George  on  the 
land  question,  which  he,  in  common  with  many  thinkers,  ac- 
cepted as  lying  at  the  base  of  poverty  and  industrial 
slavery. 

Tolstoy,  throughout  his  later  life,  by  living  in  mean  cir- 
cumstances like  a  peasant,  was  not  trying  to  teach  a  great 


120  n'hat  Tolstoy  Taught  (New  York,  B.  W.  Huebsch,  1911),  p.  5. 


1912]    Drurij:  Tolstoifs ''  W/ia^  ^Uall  We  Do  Then?"      217 

economic  lesson.  He  was  not  mentally  unbalanced  in  this 
regard,  as  some  think,  nor  is  it  to  be  believed  that,  later, 
he  felt  that  if  all  rich  men  lived  in  this  manner  they  could 
improve  the  condition  of  humanity.  He  simply  did  this, 
as  we  have  seen,  to  be  at  peace  with  himself.  We  find  Tol- 
stoy in  peasant's  garb,  plowing  in  the  fields,  his  venerable 
white  beard  blowing  about  him  in  the  wind ;  or  we  see  him 
bending  over  a  shoe  upon  a  cobbler's  bench.  Here  was  a 
man  trying  his  best  to  live  according  to  his  ideals ;  he  did 
not  believe  that  he  had  a  right  to  live  by  the  labor  of  others ; 
he  himself  must  work. 

We  need  only  read  TF/mi  Shall  We  Do  Then?  to  see  how 
unsatisfactory  all  this  was  to  Tolstoy,  living  as  he  was  under 
unnatural  conditions.  He  knew  that  he  was  powerless  in 
the  hands  of  a  great  social  system  which  made  him  a  rich 
man  without  merit  on  his  part,  and  his  neighbors  poor  men, 
without  demerit  on  their  part.  They  had  no  chance  to  be- 
come well-to-do ;  he  could  not  dispose  of  his  riches  without 
working  an  injustice  to  his  family,  and  if  he  gave  away  his 
wealth,  those  who  received  it  were  gaining  without  laboring, 
which  was  contrary  to  his  ideals.  Even  when,  in  What  Shall 
We  Do  Then?,  we  read  of  his  attempted  charity,  we  realize 
with  him  the  hopelessness  of  it  all,  the  utter  impossibility 
of  curing  the  open  sore  of  poverty  with  merely  a  royal  touch 
of  gold,  with  a  few  coins  doled  out  here  and  there  to  the 
destitute. 

He  who  had  boundless  love  for  his  fellow  men  was  driven 
to  desperation  when  he  saw  the  terrible  condition  into  which 
some  of  them  had  fallen.  He  asked  the  agonized  question 
"What  shall  we  do?"  and  cast  restlessly  about  for  the 
answer.  Socialism  he  rejected  as  an  artificial  and  danger- 
ous system.  Ceaselessly  he  sought  after  the  truth  and  at- 
tacked the  institutions  which  he  thought  might  be  the  cause 
of  the  bondage  of  the  people.  He  attacked  the  church.  He 
attacked  the  extravagances  of  the  rich  and  the  nobility.  But 
in  the  end  he  found  that  these  Avere  superficialities.  He  ac- 
cepted the  clear  reasoning  of  a  political  economist,  Henry 


218  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

George,  and  put  aside  the  doctrines  of  the  vague  theorists 
who  had  preceded  him.  This  was  in  the  period  of  his 
maturity  as  a  writer,  and  till  his  death  in  1910  he  labored 
as  best  he  could  for  the  propagation  among  mankind  of  the 
truth  as  he  saw  it. 

A  Great  Iniquity  is  Tolstoy's  answer  to  What  Shall  We 
Do  Then? 


THE   SOCIAL  VALIDITY  OF   TOLSTOY'S   WHAT 
IS  TO  BE  DONE? 


LILLIAN  KUTH  MATTHEWS, 
Ph.B.    (University  of  Iowa),   1903;    Ph.D.,    1912 


ANALYSIS 

I.  Tolstoy  should  be  discussed  in  a  spirit  sympathetic  with  his  ideal, 

p.  223. 

II.  The  significance  of  Tolstoy's  spirit  of  criticism,  its  truth  and 
its  error,  pp.  223-231. 

1.  Good  and  evil  must  be  judged  from  a  point  of  view  that 

is  not  artificial,  p.  223. 

2.  This  is  the  force  and  validity  of  his  attack,  p.  224. 

3.  Tolstoy 's  point  of  view  is  needed  in  our  age,  pp.  22.5-228. 

Humanitarian  projects,  p.  225.  The  pale  and  hungry 
worker  is  ready  for  spiritual  progress,  pp.  225-226.  Tol- 
stoy is  right  in  emphasizing  the  danger  that  "social 
work"  may  retard  progress,  pp.  227-228. 

4.  However,   Tolstoy's  view  is   essentially  limited,  pp.   228- 

230.  His  idealistic  and  sympathetic  temperament  lead 
him  to  undervalue  practical  necessities,  p.  228.  He  shows 
this  limitation  in  his  doctrine  that  primitive  life  will 
supply  an  ideal,  p.  229.  He  forgets  that  there  is  evidence 
that  good  prevails  in  present  society,  p.  229. 

5.  Our  task  is  not  to  destroy,  but  to  understand  and  develop 
our  institutions,  pp.  230-231. 

6.  We  must  conclude  that  Tolstoy 's  criticism  is   significant 

and  that  so  far  his  work  is  valid,  p.  231. 

III.  Tolstoy's  view  of  our  material  development  is  the  first  error 
into  which  his  attempt  at  practical  application  of  his  criticism 
leads  him,  pp.  231-240. 

1.  Would   abolish   money   as   the   chief   cause   of   corruption, 
pp.  231-232. 

[220] 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       221 

2.  The  proper  position  of  money  in  social  concepts,  pp.  223- 

235. 

3.  The  contribution  that  money  has  made  to  the  ethical  de- 

velopment that  Tolstoy  desires,  pp.  235-237. 

4.  Tolstoy  also  errs  in  attacking  wealth,  pp.  237-240.     The 

starvation  of  all  will  not  furnish  aid  to  those  already 
famishing,  p.  237.  Wealth  has  been  a  great  force  for 
progress,  p.  238.  Tolstoy  quite  misses  the  view  that 
plenty  will  serve  man  better  than  poverty,  p.  239.  The 
material  and  the  spiritual  must  and  do  advance  together, 
pp.  239-240. 


IV.  Tolstoy's  view  of  labor  presents  the  same  aspect;  again  it  is 
limited  and  ill-fitted  to  cope  with  our  problem,  pp.  240-248. 

1.  His  scheme  of  "bread  labor"  would  result  in  the  abolition 

of  city  life,  in  which  Tolstoy  sees  only  evil,  pp.  240-241. 
But  city  life  has  aspects  which  help  develop  the  very 
spirit  Tolstoy  wishes  in  mankind,  pp.  240-242. 

2.  It  is  true  that  urban  development  has  made  possible  our 

present  industrial  organization,  p.  242.  But  examples 
prove  that  the  system  advocated  by  Tolstoy  leads  to 
worse  evils,  pp.  242-243.  It  would  soon  reduce  the  race 
to  dire  poverty  where  no  spiritual  development  would  be 
possible,  p.  244. 

3.  Machinery  has  been  a  natural  outgrowth  of  both  material 

and  spiritual  needs,  p.  244.  Philosophers  and  poets  have 
recognized  this,  pp.  244-245.  While  admitting  the  evils 
to  which  abuses  have  led,  we  must  recognize  the  force 
for  good  which  might  be  utilized,  pp.  245-246. 

4.  Division  of  labor  may  be  a  force  for  promoting  the  spirit 

of  interdependence,  p.  247. 

V.  The  validity  of  Tolstoy's  criticism  of  government,  pp.  248-252. 

1.  Tolstoy's  views  of  labor,  money,  wealth,  etc.,  if  carried 
out,  would  soon  lead  to  retrogression  in  governmental 
institutions,  p.  248.  Investigations  prove  that  where 
economic  life  is  on  a  low  level  no  progress  takes  place, 
p.  248.  Evils  grow  under  such  conditions  and  a  system 
of  anarchy  would  be  quite  useless,  p.  249. 


222  Vniversity  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

2.  Tolstoy's  view  of  government  is  led  astray  by  peculiarly 

Eussian  conditions,  p.  249.  The  test  of  bis  validity  must 
be  how  well  he  has  fulfilled  his  purpose  of  awakening  the 
spiritual  consciousness  of  man,  p.  249.  Illustrated  by  his 
views  on  taxation,  pp.  250-251. 

3.  The    deeper   vital   spiritual   forces    are   gaining    over   the 

lower  in  government  and  in  man's  other  activities,  pp. 
251-252. 

VI.  Conclusion — An  estimate  of  Tolstoy's  achievement  in  What  Is 
To  Be  Done?  pp.  252-259. 

1.  He  makes  a  powerful  plea  that  moral  truths  be  given  due 

place  in  outward  life,  but  the  force  of  it  is  lessened  by 
its  impracticability,  pp.  251-252. 

2.  The  struggle  with  hardship  that  he  advocates  is  unneces- 

sary and  does  not  bring  the  "spiritual  fruits"  that 
Tolstoy  desires  for  mankind,  pp.  253-258.  Pain  cannot 
be  exalted  as  the  pathway  to  highest  living,  pp.  253-256. 
Deformity  and  suffering  must  yield  to  health  and  strength, 
p.  256.  Society  must  cease  to  justify  injustice,  p.  256. 
Tolstoy's  scheme  of  destruction  is  not  necessary,  p.  257. 
Examples  prove  that  moral  and  ethical  characteristics 
rise  best  under  conditions  quite  the  reverse  of  those 
Tolstoy  advocates,  p.  257. 

3.  Many  forces  hinder  the  ethical  growth  of  society,  p.  258. 

One  of  the  chief  is  that  the  race  still  attempts  to  apply 
old  formulae  to  new  conditions,  p.  259.  The  spiritual 
development  of  the  race  has  been  retarded  by  its  blind- 
ness to  the  new  civilization  made  possible  by  these  con- 
ditions, p.  259.  While  not  appreciating  material  progress, 
Tolstoy  has  discerned  the  spiritual  malady  and  thus 
becomes  an  awakener  of  conscience  and  an  inspiration, 
p.  259. 


THE  SOCIAL  VALIDITY  OF  TOLSTOY'S 
WHAT  IS  TO  BE  DONET 


A  great  soul  seeking  to  comprehend  humanity  must  be 
discussed  in  the  spirit  he  himself  has  expressed  as  his  ideal 
if  we  would  be  just  to  him  or  hope  to  reach  a  solution  of 
those  problems  that  set  that  soul  upon  the  quest.  We  may- 
esteem  his  conclusions  slight  or  inadequate,  but  if  we  base 
our  criticism  upon  the  spirit  that  the  author  wished  to  in- 
spire, we  have  done  the  thing  plea.sing  to  one  whose  desire 
was  to  convey  the  gleam  that  he  himself  followed.  At  the 
branching  of  many  roads  Tolstoy  set  up  an  altar  and  built 
a  fire  thereon  at  which  wayfarers  may  light  their  torches 
before  attempting  the  darkness  beyond.  Even  though  we  do 
not  follow  the  path  Tolstoy  chose,  because  we  do  not  believe 
it  to  be  the  one  leading  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  the  flame 
upon  the  torch  may  be  lifted  from  his  altar-fires,  as  he 
would  have  wished  when  he  kindled  it  there. 


II 

The  light  which  Tolstoy  gives  as  a  guide  for  stumbling 
feet  is  an  intense  interest  in  humanity  for  its  own  sake.  His 
call  is  to  east  aside  all  that  is  artificial  or  non-essential,  and 


1  Tolstoy,  What  Is  To  Be  Bone?,  translated  by  I.  F.  Hapgood  (New 
York,  Crowell,  1899)  ;  cf.  What  Shall  We  Do  Then?,  translated  by  Leo 
Wiener  (Boston,  Estes,  1904). 

[223] 


224  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

to  strive  to  view  life  with  fresh,  unprejudiced  vision.  ' '  Man- 
kind seems  to  be  occupied  with  commerce,  treaties,  wars, 
sciences,  arts,  and  yet  for  them  one  thing  only  is  important, 
and  they  do  only  that — they  are  elucidating  those  moral 
laws  by  which  they  live. '  '^  Tolstoy 's  is  a  spiritual  criticism. 
He  summons  the  soul  of  man  to  judge  good  and  evil.  ''Only 
those  who  can  appreciate  moral  truths  know  how  to  value 
their  elucidation  and  simplification  by  a  long  and  laborious 
process,  or  can  prize  the  transition  from  a  first  vaguely 
understood  proposition  or  desire  to  a  firm  and  determined 
expression  calling  for  a  corresponding  change  of  conduct."* 
Tolstoy's  deep  and  introspective  groping  has  discerned 
that  the  soul  must  face  its  problems  in  a  straightforward 
way,  cleared  of  all  the  traditions  and  predeterminations  that 
we  have  become  accustomed  to  regard  as  the  significant  end 
of  society's  activity.  In  this  lies  his  inspirational  power. 
It  rings  through  his  words,  sounding  indignation  against 
a  gross  materialism,  crying  scorn  upon  low  ideals  of  commer- 
cial expediency  that  would  rule  humanity  to  its  ethical  im- 
poverishment. Having  heard  a  soul  sobbing  over  the  sins 
and  sufferings  of  the  world,  one  can  nevermore  be  blind  or 
callous.  His  intense  w^ords  must  strike  through  the  hardest 
shell  of  either  conventional  or  academic  arrogance.  The 
most  prosperous  of  our  complacent  classes,  after  reading 
Tolstoy,  could  scarcely  look  at  life  just  as  had  been  their 
previous  habit.  Many  a  placid  person,  who  believed  him- 
self at  least  inoffensive,  must  have  been  startled  into  ques- 
tioning his  own  right  to  self-satisfaction  when  he  heard 
Tolstoy  summoning  each  one  to  accept  his  share  of  respon- 
sibility for  the  pain  and  evil  of  society.  The  begging  men, 
the  gross  and  suffering  women,  the  pale  youth  shivering, 
all  the  desolate  crew  of  Rzhanoff's  house,  regard  us  with 
inquiring  eyes.  Nor  can  we  escape  by  leaving  the  city 
streets : 


2  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  57  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  67). 
^  Ibid.,  p.  56  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  66). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       225 

All,  old  and  young  and  sick,  work  with  all  their  strength.  The 
peasants  work  in  such  a  way  that,  when  cutting  the  last  rows,  the 
mowers — weak  people,  growing  youths,  old  men — are  so  tired  that, 
having  rested  a  little,  it  is  with  great  pain  they  begin  anew.* 

The  little  boy,  quite  bent  under  the  jug  with  water  heavier  than 
himself,  walks  with  short  steps  on  his  bare  feet,  and  carries  the  jug 
with  many  shifts.  The  little  girl  takes  on  her  shoulders  a  load  of 
hay,  which  is  also  heavier  than  herself;  walks  a  few  paces,  and  stops, 
then  throws  it  down,  having  no  strength  to  carry  it  farther.^ 

The  sun  is  already  setting  behind  the  wood,  and  the  ricks  are 
not  yet  in  order;  there  is  still  much  to  be  done.o 

The  awakened  conscience  stands  ready  to  listen  and  to 
learn.  This  is  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  our  age,  which 
is  devoting  attention  to  the  question  whether  the  general 
well-being  may  not  be  promoted  more  justly  in  harmony 
with  increasing  wealth.  Tolstoy  perceives  the  danger  here 
too,  for  it  is  true  that  so  much  interest  is  exhibited  in  "social 
betterment"  that  this  age  has  become  self-conscious  and 
rather  pleased  with  itself.  Employers  have  adopted  "wel- 
fare work"  as  part  of  their  program  of  business.  Society 
points  proudly  to  those  conspicuous  for  providing  a  rest 
room,  a  dining  place,  or  a  waxed  floor  as  examples  of  the 
willingness  to  share  (even  at  pecuniary  loss)  with  those 
who  in  the  plan  of  things  are  made  to  serve.  Leisurely, 
well-dressed  women,  anxious  for  fear  that  they  may  not  be 
the  proper  exponents  of  the  modern  fashion  of  altruism, 
listen  at  their  clubs  to  reports  about  philanthropic  agencies. 
They  voice  their  support,  pluming  themselves  upon  the 
weight  their  uttered  sentiment  will  add.  Others  become 
"friendly  visitors"  and  can  tell  how  effectively  the  influ- 
ence of  their  personality  and  the  wisdom  of  their  patronage 
has  made  over  some  wrecked  life  or  encouraged  some  family 
to  renewed  effort  that  has  brought  them  to  the  self-respect- 
ing level  of  patient  toil  and  frugality  that  was  the  ideal  of 


4/&td.,  p.  160  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  193). 
5  Ibid.,  p.  161  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  194). 
^Ihid.,  p.  161  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  194). 


226  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

early  Victorian  days.  The  assumption  is  that  the  poor,  the 
toilers,  the  sinful,  are  inherently  lacking  in  the  qualities 
that  might  save  them  without  extraneous  suggestion. 

On  a  night  in  San  Francisco  not  long  since,  a  raw  wind 
was  blowing  along  Market  Street.  A  pale  man,  meanly 
dressed  in  the  garb  of  a  laborer,  stood  in  front  of  a  window 
made  attractive  by  a  display  of  books.  He  was  leaning 
eagerly  forward  spelling  out  the  titles  with  slow  lips.  A 
hungry  soul  looked  out  through  his  longing  eyes.  He 
pressed  against  the  glass  with  arms  outstretched  as  if  he 
would  embrace  a  world  from  which  he  knew  himself  shut 
out.  Such  a  bit  of  concrete  life  flings  before  the  mental 
vision  the  reason  for  Tolstoy's  passionate  cry  that  people 
should  cease  to  judge  social  policies  by  what  has  been  writ- 
ten about  them  and  think  of  them  only  in  terms  of  the 
results  to  be  seen  about  us.  Here  on  our  own  free  and  pros- 
perous streets  was  the  man  who  says,  "We  want  spiritual 
food;  and  until  w^e  receive  it  we  cannot  labor. "^  ''We  do 
not  even  know  what  is  required  by  the  working-man,"  ac- 
cuses Tolstoy,  ' '  we  have  even  forgotten  his  mode  of  life,  his 
view  of  things,  his  language."^  ''And  we  are  still  convers- 
ing among  ourselves  and  teaching  each  other,  and  amusing 
ourselves,  and  have  quite  forgotten  them ;  we  have  so  totally 
forgotten  them  that  others  have  taken  upon  themselves  to 
teach  and  amuse  them,  and  we  have  not  even  become  aware 
of  this  in  our  flippant  talk  about  division  of  labor.  And  it 
was  very  obvious  that  all  our  talk  about  the  utility  we  oifer 
the  people  was  only  a  shameful  excuse."*  "In  our  blind- 
ness we  have  to  such  a  degree  left  out  of  sight  the  duty  we 
took  upon  us,  that  we  have  forgotten  for  what  our  labor  is 
being  done;  and  the  very  people  w^hom  we  undertook  to 
serve,  we  have  made  an  object  of  our  scientific  and  artistic 
activities.    We  study  them  and  represent  them  for  our  own 


7  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  208  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  251). 

8  Ibid.,  p.  209  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  252). 
8  Ihid.,  p.  211  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  253). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "^Yhat  Is  To  Be  Done?"       227 

pleasure  and  amusement :  we  have  quite  forgotten  that  it  is 
our  duty,  not  to  study  and  depict,  but  to  serve  them."^° 

From  many  quarters,  resentment  may  greet  such  an  ar- 
raignment of  this  century.  It  might  be  averred  that  since 
Tolstoy's  book  was  written  such  a  development  of  altruism 
has  shown  itself  that  such  accusations  are  quite  absurd. 
Encouraging  as  the  fact  of  widened  social  feeling  may  be, 
it  brings  with  it  the  perils  Tolstoy  discerns  as  a  concomitant 
of  the  advancement  of  the  race.  The  few  who  have  attained 
the  identification  with  the  interests  of  the  whole  of  human- 
ity that  Tolstoy  so  truly  sees  is  necessary  before  any  re- 
form can  be  adequate,  stand  out  against  a  background  of 
those  who  are  for  betterment  merely  because  that  happens 
to  be  the  conventional  expression  of  our  day.  They  have  in 
no  sense  that  appreciation  of  "moral  truths"  which  leads  to 
a  "firm  and  determined  corresponding  change  in  conduct." 
Their  very  numbers  may  clog  the  fundamental  revolution  of 
a  changed  spiritual  state.  A  complacent  majority,  posing 
as  altruistic  in  motive,  believing,  indeed,  in  the  sincerity  of 
their  own  pose,  may  blind  the  age  to  basic  facts  of  injustice. 
Kest  rooms,  dining-rooms,  a  waxed  floor,  are  not  to  be  ac- 
cepted as  a  substitute  for  a  living  wage.  Abundance  of 
philanthropic  effort  may  serve  merely  to  hide  an  issue  that 
involves  the  right  of  each  personality  to  be  free  from  the 
humiliating  necessity  of  submitting  to  the  impertinence  of 
such  efforts.  Settlements,  social  centers,  amusements  be- 
stowed by  people  living  in  one  part  of  a  city  upon  those 
doomed  to  live  in  another,  may  accomplish  some  of  the 
purposes  intended.  They  may  also  furnish  a  self-esteeming 
excuse  for  not  appreciating  the  right  others  have  to  an 
environment  that  renders  patronage  needless. 

Into  such  an  inert  society,  accepting  its  own  progress 
only  when  advancement  can  be  transmuted  into  a  conven- 
tionality— a  conventionality  that  too  often  becomes  a  mech- 
anical action  deadening  to  the  very  spiritual  inspiration 


10  Ibid.,  p.  210  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  253). 


228  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

that  originated  the  change — into  this  inert  society,  Tolstoy 
strides,  a  lonely,  iconoclastic  figure.  Nothing  will  he  gloss 
or  hide.  He  will  not  persuade  with  flattery.  "We  must 
admit  the  tremendous  force  of  his  insight.  We  must  ac- 
knowledge that  in  discerning  the  moral  laws  which  "com- 
merce, treaties,  wars,  sciences,  arts,"  are  elucidating,  lies 
the  only  means  of  discovering  how  civilization  may  be 
directed  in  ways  conducive  to  social  happiness.  Is  Tolstoy 's 
program  of  conduct  the  best  interpretation  of  what  this 
"subtle,  imperceptible  elucidation"  discloses  as  essential 
to  preserve? 

The  material  that  we  have  to  work  with  is  this  world  as 
it  is,  with  all  its  physical  necessities,  its  waywardness,  its 
foolish  and  short-sighted  laws,  its  commonplace  people. 
Tolstoy's  sustained  point  of  view  places  him  above  all 
material  qualities,  on  the  stage  where  constitutions,  con- 
gresses, and  the  machinery  of  economic  life  become  attenu- 
ated. As  in  his  own  private  life  his  theories  were  in  conflict 
with  the  conditions  society  imposed,  so  in  What  Is  To  Be 
Done?  we  find  the  same  effort  to  disregard  the  practical 
limitations  of  a  natural  world.  His  view  is  essentially 
temperamental. 

The  deepest  tragedies  of  our  social  life  struck  into  his 
sensitive  perception.  He  suffered  keenly  in  his  sympathy 
with  the  unhappy,  ruined,  depraved,  with  the  "working- 
men,  quiet,  satisfied,  cheerful"  in  their  poverty.  Pain  and 
injustice  loom  so  large  that  his  sense  of  perspective  is  ob- 
scured. In  the  gloom  of  his  mood,  he  can  see  no  hope  of 
untangling  the  complications  of  our  social  organization. 
Tolstoy  appreciated  with  a  deep,  abstruse  intuition  that 
man  had  become  the  creature  of  the  mechanism  he  had 
built.  "The  hungry,  shivering,  degraded  inhabitants  of 
the  night  lodging-houses"  by  their  very  existence  condemn, 
for  him,  the  system  as  utterly  bad.  Coupling  this  convic- 
tion with  his  perception  of  how  the  very  soul  of  man  had 
become  permeated  with  the  economic  forms  he  had  evolved, 
our  author  sees  only  the  solution  of  destruction.     He  had 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Dorie?"       229 

grasped  by  his  spiritual  vision  a  salient  fact  which  he  was 
unable  to  translate  into  practical,  material  terms.  Plow 
strange  that  he  could  believe  it  possible  for  the  race  which 
had  been  changed  in  its  very  spiritual  habits  by  the  civiliza- 
tion it  had  reared,  to  revert  desperately  to  a  simple,  element- 
al state  of  discomfort  and  find  innocence  and  virtue  there ! 
Indeed  all  the  results  of  research  teach  that  a  race  in  its 
primitive  state  is  deficient  in  moral  sense.  Savages  have  no 
regard  for  human  life;  have  no  fineness  and  delicacy  in 
their  intuitions  in  relations  with  others.  An  age  that  was 
truly  moral  would  not  have  invented  the  gods  and  goddesses 
of  Homer  and  could  not  have  bowed  down  before  them. 

Fortunately,  people  as  a  whole  do  not  have  the  exeep- 
tionately  gloomy  outlook  on  life  that  admits  the  premise 
that  the  social  results  of  development  have  been  universally 
and  only  evil.  We  are  aware  that,  even  at  its  worst,  the 
world  shows  traits  which  are  not  hopelessly  wicked  or  un- 
happy. Our  various  phases  of  industrial  life  are  based  upon 
principles  that  are  fundamentally  just.  Greed  and  ignor- 
ance have  hindered  growth  and  deflected  it  away  from  ef- 
fective social  control.  Intelligence,  too  narrow  to  compre- 
hend the  vast  meaning  of  economic  laws  as  they  have  un- 
folded themselves,  has  promulgated  short-sighted  policies 
that  disturb  the  harmonies  of  those  laws  and  pervert  them. 
But  redemption  does  not  lie  in  beating  a  retreat  to  a  fan- 
tastic and  unreal  state  of  nature.  The  Darwinian  inspira- 
tion was  not  with  Tolstoy  or  he  would  have  seen  the  mani- 
festation of  nature  in  the  constant  upward  struggle  of 
humanity.  Since  at  every  stage  of  history  we  see  man 
destined  to  invent  means  for  control  of  situations,  to  en- 
gage in  new  adventures,  and  ever  continue  to  enter  upon 
others  with  energy  and  unabated  zeal,  is  it  not  logical  to 
conclude  that  the  civilization  he  has  produced  is  based  upon 
his  most  natural  and  ineradicable  tendencies  ?  The  institu- 
tions which  we  have  incorporated  into  our  existence,  which 
have  come  to  us  through  the  long,  selective  processes  of  race 
development,  have  brought  with  them  a  significance  that 


230  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

any  artificially  imposed  program  totally  lacks.  To  study 
and  understand  this  significance  is  a  brave  task  for  our 
century. 

The  new  quest  is  to  discover  the  subtle  influence  of  the 
mechanism  of  social  and  industrial  life  as  they  play  upon 
human  beings,  as  the  mechanism  itself  is  shaped  into  new 
form  because  of  the  very  changes  produced  in  desires, 
habits,  ideals.  By  making  this  elucidation  perceptible  to 
the  world,  development  may  be  consciously  directed  toward 
social  happiness  instead  of  continuing  to  grope  about  in 
haphazard  fashion  and  so  cause  all  the  waste  and  cruelty 
of  heedless  mistakes. 

Tolstoy's  reading  of  life  leads  him  to  conclude  that  we 
must  not  preserve  any  of  the  forms  which  have  grown  up 
with  the  race,  so  corrupting  have  they  proved.  He  seeks 
to  drive  man  to  a  higher  plane  by  showing  all  the  evil  of 
his  present  state.  Adopting  this  hopeless  view  of  the  pos- 
sibilities of  our  present  system,  humanity  would  be  driven 
to  despair  or  to  a  cynical  callousness;  for  abandonment  of 
our  complications  would  not  prove  so  simple  a  matter  as 
Tolstoy  states.  We  must  work  with  the  material  we  have 
at  hand,  assured  that  it  contains  the  blocks  needed  for 
building  the  new  structure. 

Up  through  toil  the  race  has  struggled  until  a  material 
level  has  at  last  been  reached  Avhere,  looking  down  upon  the 
foundation  built,  we  can  see  a  solid  basis  upon  which  to  rear 
a  new  civilization.  Nature  has  been  gained  upon  so  that  it 
is  no  longer  necessary  for  the  human  hordes  to  prowl  about 
precarious  supplies  of  food.  We  are  in  an  age  of  transition. 
The  social  mind  is  static  in  character,  has  not  outgrown  old 
habits  engendered  by  the  fear  of  hunger  and  cold  when 
the  profit  of  one  could  only  be  another's  loss.  Old  points 
of  view  linger  incongruously  in  the  new,  materially  abund- 
ant world.  Oppression  of  the  laborer,  exploitation  of  the 
weak,  degradation  and  poverty,  abide  more  glaringly  in  con- 
trast to  the  lavishness  of  our  economic  productiveness.  Com- 
plaisance is  still  accorded  to  the  fact  that  rewards  go  to 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Donef"       231 

cunning,  insensibility,  or  brute  force  because  an  old 
hypocrisy  confuses  them  with  strength  of  character  and 
patience.  But  the  accomplished  change  in  outward  condi- 
tions will  in  time  alter  the  social  mind  so  as  to  bring  con- 
duct into  accord  with  the  fuller  spiritual  and  intellectual 
development  made  possible  by  the  mechanism  that  Tolstoy 
would  discard.  Within  the  rough,  hard  mass  of  our  pres- 
ent conditions  is  enclosed  the  heroic  figure  of  the  coming 
order.  The  artists  in  economic  thought,  gifted  with  the 
"divine  gift  of  seeing"  must,  like  Michaelangelo,  chip  away 
the  superficial  stone. 

A  higher  civilization  is  ready  to  emerge,  accomplishment 
of  a  large  measure  of  it  is  a  present  possibility  for  this 
century.  But  the  appearance  of  the  new  regime  implies 
the  abandonment  of  the  conservative  point  of  view  that 
affects  men's  minds  with  a  habit  of  doubting  and  makes  it 
normal  to  despond.  We  must  come  to  see  that  misuse  of 
our  social  machinery  is  not  inherently  necessary.  At  this 
point  Tolstoy  fails  us  as  a  guide.  He  is  fundamentally 
right,  when,  with  clear,  spiritual  vision,  he  decries  the  per- 
version that  institutions  and  forms  have  become,  but  he 
shows  us  nothing  of  the  other  hopeful  side  which  man  must 
realize  and  accept.  Realizing  and  accepting  the  practic- 
ability of  making  existing  institutions — money,  factories, 
city  life,  division  of  labor — serve  ends  of  happiness,  human- 
ity will  have  grown  into  the  new  state  of  mind  harmonious 
with  our  development  into  economic  plenty. 

Ill 

]\Ioney  is  the  first  symbol  in  which  Tolstoy  sees  a  bar- 
rier to  the  regeneration  of  man  and  the  consequent  disap- 
pearance of  those  barriers  to  a  feeling  of  universal  sym- 
pathy and  kinship.  He  had  attempted  to  share  his  money 
with  the  hungry  and  miserable ;  he  had  felt  uncomfortable 
and  distressed.  The  poor  prostitute  had  nursed  a  sick 
woman  three  days;  the  penniless  helped  each  other  with  a 


232  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vou  l 

simplicity  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  attain ;  he  concludes, 
therefore,  that  if  he  possessed  nothing  at  all  he  might  do 
more  good. 

The  woman  who  nursed  the  sick  old  man  helped  him;  the 
peasant's  wife,  who  cut  a  slice  of  her  bread,  earned  by  her  from 
the  very  sowing  of  the  corn  that  made  it,  helped  the  hungry  one; 
Semyon,  who  gave  three  kopeks  which  he  had  earned,  assisted  the 
pilgrim  because  these  three  kopeks  really  represented  his  labor; 
but  I  had  served  nobody,  worked  for  no  one,  and  knew  very  well 
my  money  did  not  represent  my  labor.  And  so  I  felt  that  in  money, 
or  in  money's  worth,  and  in  the  possession  of  it,  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  and  evil;  that  the  money  itself  and  the  fact  of  my 
having  it,  was  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  those  evils  I  had  seen 
before  me,  and  I  asked  myself,  What  is  money fn 

Money  is  to  him  a  sign  of  extortion,  a  means  and  an 
end  for  continuing  the  ills  in  modern  life.  The  rich  have 
"by  means  of  the  most  complicated,  cunning,  and  wicked 
contrivances  practiced  for  centuries"  made  themselves 
owners  of  the  "inexhaustible  ruble. "^^  Its  possession,  he 
argues,  has  served  only  to  compel  the  continuance  of  an 
unjust  division  of  labor.  Sweep  away  money  and  all  the 
unfair  conditions  of  our  methods  of  production  will  vanish. 
"What  is  the  reason  of  the  fact  that  some  men  by  means 
of  money  acquire  an  imaginary  right  to  the  land  and  cap- 
ital, and  may  make  slaves  of  those  men  who  have  no  money  ? 
The  answer  that  presents  itself  to  common  sense  would  be, 
that  it  is  the  result  of  money,  the  nature  of  which  is  to 
enslave  men,"^^  To  take  so  narrow  a  view  seems  astonish- 
ing, even  childish.  So  many  motives,  so  many  impulses, 
so  many  acquired  habits  enter  into  the  actions  of  men  that 
it  is  scarcely  an  adequate  explanation  to  lay  the  entire  bur- 
den of  responsibility  upon  a  superficial  expression  which 
man  has  himself  created  as  a  convenience  in  a  complicated 
society. 

n  fVhat  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  83  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  98), 

12  Ihid.,  p.  81  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  96). 

13  Ihid.,  p.  91  (tr.  Weiner,  p.  108). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       233 

One  of  the  most  firmly  grounded  conceptions  people 
must  be  rid  of  is  this  very  one  that  money  is  the  paramount 
influence  and  end  guiding  the  world's  economic  progress. 
A  man  during  the  hours  when  he  is  engaged  in  earning  a 
living  has  been  conceived  as  a  creature  separated  from  all 
traits  excepting  that  of  handling  money.  This  one  func- 
tion of  his  life  has  been  treated  as  if  entirely  unrelated  to 
his  own  other  activities  or  to  those  of  society  and  as  if 
uninfluenced  by  them. 

The  assumption  that  man  in  his  relation  to  money  could 
be  isolated  has  been  a  powerful  suggestive  force  that  has 
inculcated  biased  views  and  perverted  much  thought.  It 
has  divorced  the  race's  consideration  of  money-getting  from 
the  ethical  connection  that  should  be,  and  often  has  been,  its 
concomitant.  This  peculiar  concept,  in  which  Tolstoy  shares, 
has  been  the  baneful  influence  that  has  removed  methods  of 
money-getting  from  the  plane  of  consideration  upon  which 
other  conduct  is  judged.  The  idea  has  solidified  itself  into 
trite  phrases,  those  evidences  of  unreasoning  acceptance  of 
shallow  notions.  "Business  is  business,"  we  say  glibly,  as 
if  it  were  an  axiom.  Tolstoy  perceives  the  spiritual  im- 
poverishment that  has  attended  this  separation  of  the 
"economic  man"  from  all  the  rest  of  his  personality,  but 
apparently  regards  the  division  as  inevitable  and  sees  only 
the  solution  of  forcing  the  agent,  money,  out  of  existence. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  any  study  of  man's  ways  and 
means  of  acquiring  money  is  quite  inadequate  and  lacks  true 
significance  if  numerous,  diversified  psychological  factors 
are  not  taken  into  account.  Business  conduct  may  be  shaped 
by  impulses  that  are  quite  forgetful  of  money.  Desire  for 
power  may  make  money  only  a  means  to  that  end ;  passion, 
jealousy,  personal  likes  or  dislikes  may  cloud  a  man's 
judgment ;  kindness  and  sympathy  may  deflect  his  course ; 
duty,  love  of  his  work,  love  of  family,  the  spirit  of  social 
service,  are  all  conceivable  forces  having  a  vast  influence 
upon  financial  dealings.  Men  neither  seeking  or  gaining 
reward  have  made  the  great  discoveries  that  have  furthered 


234  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

our  advancement.  Newton,  independent  of  any  lust  for 
money,  discovered  the  laws  of  gravitation.  The  match  trust, 
in  order  that  its  rivals  might  make  use  of  a  process  free 
from  danger,  canceled  its  patent  on  sesquisulphide  of  phos- 
phorus, the  harmless  substitute  for  the  poisonous  white 
phosphorus  used  with  such  frightful  results  on  the  health 
of  the  workers. 

An  economist  with  sufficient  insight  into  the  human 
heart  to  discern  the  relationship  and  proportion  of  the 
various  elements  blending  together  in  our  industrial  life 
will  perform  a  great  service  toward  forwarding  the  changed 
point  of  view  that  makes  progress  easier.  In  discussions  of 
humanity  at  work,  money  will  cease  to  occupy  an  exagger- 
ated position  as  almost  the  sole  motive  of  his  activity.  It 
will  be  seen  in  its  proper  perspective  as  one  only  of  many 
incentives  to  which  it  often  plays  a  subordinate  part. 

The  new  concept  will  make  social  conduct  seem  a  simple, 
obvious  act  in  the  natural  course  of  events.  Now  if  we 
wish  to  induce  an  employer  to  provide  comforts  for  his  em- 
ployees, w^e  set  about  it  on  the  assumption  that  the  only 
argument  carrying  weight  with  him  is  the  fact  of  its  pay- 
ing. Charities  feel  less  timid  about  asking  for  funds  if 
they  can  give  some  proof  of  lifting  part  of  the  burden  of 
poverty  which  requires  support  from  the  community.  By 
coordinating  money  with  the  other  motives  influencing  man, 
these  other  motives  will  rise  to  a  height  of  proper  import- 
ance in  the  public  consciousnass.  Justice  may  be  seen  to  be 
quite  as  good  a  reason  as  pecuniary  return  for  improving 
working  conditions ;  sympathy  and  a  truly  altruistic  desire 
for  fair  play  may  appear  a  sufficient  cause  for  sharing  with 
any  who  have  fallen  into  misfortune.  .  Such  forces  actually 
do  count  now,  only  we  fail  to  give  them  adequate  recogni- 
tion and  they  have  become  disassociated  from  our  concept 
of  what  may  be  expected  from  a  man  as  an  economic  agent. 

"With  this  broadened  understanding  we  can  come  to  see 
more  clearly  that  what  is  esteemed  as  thrift  and  talent  is 
often  greed,  that  practical  common  sense  is  frequently  a 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Donef"       235 

narrow-minded  form  of  low  conservatism,  that  the  pillars 
supposedly  holding  up  society  are  merely  examples  of  stupid 
inertia.  Toleration  is  not  accorded  to  stupidity,  inertia, 
narrowness,  or  greed  in  themselves,  but  we  have  substituted 
prettier  titles  in  the  separated  field  of  money  dealings.  A 
changed  point  of  view  will  do  away  with  our  habit  of  calm 
acceptance  of  "cunning  and  complicated  tricks,"  "of  vio- 
lence, extortion,  and  various  expedients  in  consequence  of 
which  the  working  people  are  deprived  of  the  necessary 
things,  and  the  non-working  community  monopolize  the 
labor  of  others."^* 

The  replacing  of  the  money-motive  into  its  proper  per- 
spective, and  the  consequent  change  in  the  social  mind, 
would  be  impossible,  Tolstoy  would  still  maintain,  since  he 
believes  'that  money 's  very  nature  is  to  enslave  and  to  cor- 
rupt. The  concept  of  money  has,  beyond  all  denying,  in- 
siduously  mastered  many  of  the  social-  concepts  of  the 
nations.  But  one  need  not  conclude  that  this  has  been  an 
altogether  evil  influence,  nor  that  it  has  won  man  away  from 
a  state  of  innocence  devoid  of  avariciousness.  The  develop- 
ment of  a  monetary  system  gave  a  common  term,  a  denom- 
inator, in  which  man  may  communicate  with  each  other  in  a 
far  more  simple,  direct,  and  honest  manner  than  could  be 
without  it.  A  subtle  standardization  has  taken  place  in  the 
thinking  of  the  market-place.  Effective  cooperation  has 
resulted  from  this  direct  and  honest  standard  that  has  served 
for  a  universal  measure  in  the  concepts  of  the  world. 

Imagination  found  itself  released  when  the  mind  was 
relieved  of  circuitous  and  cumbersome  methods  of  mutual 
dealings.  The  feeling  of  ease  and  facility  inculcated  by 
money  carried  nimble  thoughts  into  earth's  far  corners. 
Trade  developed,  becoming  the  most  efficient  of  those  co- 
operative undertakings  that  have  proved  themselves  to  be 
a  civilizing  influence.  "Trade,"  says  Thorold  Rogers,  "is 
an  effective  means  for  the  development  of  international  mor- 


14  What  Is  to  Be  Done?,  p.  79  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  94). 


236  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

ality,  for  the  sense  of  reciprocal  benefit  teaches  the  reality 
of  reciprocal  rights,  and  the  recognition  of  rights  in  the 
people  of  a  foreign  country  is  obviously  a  means  by  which 
people  are  instructed  in  that  sense  of  justice  and  the  satis- 
faction of  obligations  which  is  the  earliest,  and  it  would 
seem,  the  most  difficult  lesson  of  civilization."^^ 

Money  has  proved  itself  worthy  of  being  retained.  It 
has  itself  served  the  nobler  ends  of  race  expansion  and  given 
wing  to  ideas  which  have  remade  the  world  into  a  sphere 
where  plenty  now  at  last  gives  solid  base  for  a  higher  civil- 
ization. Nor  need  we  take  Tolstoy's  despairing  view  that 
the  wrong  attitude  of  humanity's  soul  toward  money  is  too 
deeply  ingrained  to  be  overcome  without  elimination  of 
money.  Good  service  is  to  be  credited  to  the  German 
economists  for  their  insistence  upon  other  motives  than 
mere  money-getting.  The  Physiocrats  contributed  a  revo- 
lutionary impulse  in  the  great  eighteenth  century.  "The 
chief  motive  of  their  studj'-  was  not,"  says  Marshall,  "as 
it  had  been  with  most  of  their  predecessors,  to  increase  the 
riches  of  merchants  and  fill  the  exchequers  of  kings ;  it  was 
to  diminish  the  suffering  and  degradation  which  was  caused 
by  extreme  poverty.  They  thus  gave  to  economics  its  mod- 
ern aim  of  seeking  after  such  knowledge  as  may  help 
to  raise  the  quality  of  human  life.  "^^ 

Ricardo  threw  the  study  of  man  as  an  economic  being 
into  a  narrowed  channel  for  a  time,  but  more  and  more  the 
mechanical  element  is  being  pushed  backward  as  the  human 
side  becomes  prominent.  Marshall,  Cliffe  Leslie,  Bagehot, 
Patten,  Veblen,  John  Graham  Brooks,  are  all  representative 
of  an  ever  widening  circle  of  disseminators  of  the  view  of 
industry  that  relates  the  money  function  to  the  total  sum 
of  life's  expressions.  Slowly  this  point  of  view  is  expand- 
ing through  society  until  it  will  become  subtle  and  uncon- 
scious public  opinion. 


15  James  E.  Thorold  Rogers,  The  Economic  Interpretation  of  His- 
tory  (London,  Unwin,  1889),  p.  93. 

18  Alfred  Marshall,  Principles  of  Economics  (London,  Macmillan, 
1891),  p.  54. 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       237 

In  the  abolishment  of  money,  Tolstoy  sees  the  first  step 
toward  destroying  inequality.  Wealth,  which  makes  the 
outward  signs  of  inequality  evident,  would  soon  be  reduced 
to  the  things  that  Tolstoy  regards  as  essential  and  sufficient 
were  it  not  for  money. 

I  became  persuaded  that  between  us  rich  men  and  the  poor 
there  stood,  erected  by  ourselves,  a  barrier  of  cleanliness  and  edu- 
cation which  arose  from  our  wealth,  and  that,  in  order  to  be  able 
to  help  them,  we  have  first  to  break  down  the  barrier,  and  render 
possible  the  realization  of  the  means  suggested  by  Sutaiev  to  take 
the  poor  into  our  respective  houses  And  so,  I  came  to  the  conclusion 
from  a  different  point  from  that  to  which  the  train  of  thought 
about  town  misery  had  led  me;  viz.,  the  cause  of  it  all  was  wealth. i7 

Seeing  a  starved  man,  Tolstoy  would  advocate  starva- 
tion for  every  one,  believing  that  the  famished  would  then 
suffer  less  from  his  hunger.  By  becoming  less  comfortable, 
by  being  less  clean,  by  depriving  the  race  of  refinement,  by 
eating  with  others  out  of  one  bowl,  can  we  overcome  arrog- 
ance? The  sympathetic,  socialized  state  of  mind  would 
surely  have  to  precede  the  possibilitj^  of  such  action  done 
in  a  spirit  of  common  brotherhood,  and  if  that  state  of  mind 
were  attained  the  program  suggested  by  Tolstoy  would 
lose  its  purpose.  Instead  of  seeing  virtue  in  unsanitary  con- 
ditions, ugliness,  and  coarseness,  would  not  salvation  rather 
lie  in  the  direction  of  spreading  into  universality  the  com- 
fort and  beauty  Tolstoy  would  have  us  despise? 

Wealth  has  performed  a  great  service  to  man  in  his 
intellectual  and  spiritual  growth  as  well  as  in  his  material 
development.  Its  accumulation  requires  forethought  and 
self-restraint,  and  in  these  qualities  is  found  the  power  that 
marks  man 's  divergence  from  the  lower  animals.  Evolution 
has  insisted  upon  the  development  of  these  traits  because 
those  tribes  alone  that  exercised  sufficient  vision  of  future 
wants  to  amass  a  store  of  goods  were  allowed  to  survive. 
Only  by  the  accumulation  of  wealth  has  progress  been  made 
possible.     AVealth  itself  should  not  be  denounced,  but  its 


IT  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  72  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  85). 


r 


238  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

present  distribution.  This  maladjustment  is  a  remnant  from 
that  past  when  no  surplus  existed,  when  terror  of  want  dis- 
torted the  outlook.  Wealth,  abundant  enough  to  supply  a 
steady  surplus,  must  be  the  ground  upon  which  any  conceiv- 
able civilization  can  be  erected.  A  realized  sense  of  se- 
curity from  the  danger  of  material  want  will  eliminate 
many  of  the  characteristics  that  keep  economic  injustice 
alive.  Old  habits  of  mind  will  be  replaced  by  a  new  series. 
Let  the  idea  become  ingrained  that  there  is  plenty  for  all, 
then  no  one  will  feel  the  necessity  for  protecting  himself 
by  depriving  others,  or  if  he  does,  will  not  find  himself  jus- 
tified by  public  opinion.  Old  points  of  view  that  are  mere 
superstitions  in  our  present  world  of  developed  resources 
still  hold  mankind  in  bondage. 

Tolstoy  himself  was  obsessed  by  this  worn-out  view.  He 
saw  no  vision  of  the  future  rendered  practicable  by  the  new 
conception  of  economic  plenty.  "All  men,"  he  writes,  "are 
struggling  with  want.  They  are  struggling  so  intensely  that 
alwaj^s  around  them  their  brethren,  fathers,  mothers,  chil- 
dren, are  perishing.  Men  in  this  world  are  like  those  on 
a  dismantled  or  water-logged  ship  with  a  short  allowance 
of  food ;  all  are  put  by  God  or  by  nature  in  such  a  position 
that  they  must  husband  their  food,  and  unceasingly  war 
with  want."^^  This  idea  is  a  vital  error  in  Tolstoy's  view 
of  the  material  world.  If  we  accept  it,  we  must  rest  con- 
tent with  the  existing  system,  in  which  some  have  excess 
while  others  are  hungry,  or  we  are  forced  to  Tolstoy 's  solu- 
tion of  reducing  all  to  ascetic  simplicity  that  the  supply 
may  be  stretched  thin  enough  to  reach  them.  By  basing 
his  reasoning  upon  this  supposition  Tolstoy's  conclusions 
are  rendered  strangely  incongruous.  We  have  an  example 
of  his  inability  to  make  spiritual  truths  and  material  facts 
coalesce.  Without  recognizing  the  underlying  affinity  be- 
tween the  two,  small  hope  can  be  entertained  for  the  race 
to  reach  a  higher  pitched  civilization.      Tolstoy  sees  the 


18  IVhat  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  167  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  201). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoij's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Donef"       239 

world  under  the  sway  of  characteristics  induced  by  the 
struggle  to  gain  a  share  of  the  meagre  wealth  supply,  a 
fight  requiring  ruthless,  keen-edged  weapons  if  we  hold  to 
the  supposition  that  the  allowance  is  short.  Instead  of 
seeing  the  solution  which  will  grow  out  of  more  abundant 
munitions,  our  author  sees  only  an  increment  of  causes  for 
struggle  and  enmity. 

With  the  increase  in  supply,  no  corresponding  change 
has  as  yet  woven  itself  into  social  concepts.  Our  economic 
spiritual  state  has  remained  that  of  the  old  poverty  man 
on  a  low  level  of  subsistence.  Accumulating  wealth  has 
served  to  emphasize  differences,  because  those  fortunate 
enough  to  avail  themselves  of  modern  facilities  have  been 
able  to  run  ahead  at  a  swifter  pace.  But  the  very  evils  of 
discrimination  have  become  so  striking  that  we  can  no 
longer  remain  blind  to  their  injustice.  The  lift  from  the 
bottom  has  been  slower,  but  the  portion  of  the  wider  abund- 
ance that  has  fallen  to  the  share  of  the  lowly  man  has 
nourished  him  into  more  strength.  He  feels  the  weight  of 
centuries  less  in  consequence,  has  straightened  a  bit  beneath 
the  burden  which  bowed  him,  has  ceased  to  be  a  clod  devoid 
of  sense  of  his  own  woe. 

Quite  contrary  to  Tolstoy's  conclusion,  the  expansion  of 
physical  comfort  in  every-day  living  has  been  a  socializing 
influence  in  itself.  The  public  opinion  giving  imperative 
voice  to  the  duty  of  allowing  fairer  chance  and  more 
material  equality  is  due  largely  to  the  extension  of  the 
things  that  Tolstoy  regards  as  despoiling  luxuries.  Such  a 
recognized  necessity  have  their  benefits  become  that  a  feel- 
ing that  they  should  be  possessed  by  all  has  spread  with 
them.  Even  those  who  are  not  moved  by  a  sympathetic 
spirit  realize  the  demand  for  a  better  standard  of  cleanli- 
ness, food,  dwelling,  and  clothing,  if  society  shall  be  safe 
from  the  products  of  the  primitive  conditions  Tolstoy  holds 
essential  to  the  development  of  a  proper  social  spirit. 
Fuller,  richer,  more  comfortable  life  for  the  poor  would 
give  into  their  possession  the  means  of  passing  the  gulf  of 


240  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

material  deprivation  which  now  forms  a  deplorable  barrier 
preventing  one  class  from  understanding  the  other.  In  so 
far  as  wealth  is  unjustly  acquired  and  distributed,  it  should 
be  regulated.  This  is  the  problem  the  nations  are  attacking 
today.  Imperfectly  solved  though  it  is,  nevertheless  even 
the  effort  at  solution  indicates  a  steady  growth  into  an 
actual  feeling  of  brotherhood.  Wealth  has  come  as  a  goddess 
bearing  leaves  of  healing  for  hunger,  sickness,  and  cold. 
She  has  fallen  into  captivity,  has  been  forced  to  serve  as 
handmaiden  to  the  unjust,  to  walk  abroad  with  veiled  face. 
Those  faring  on  the  modern  quest  must  tear  her  smothering 
veil  aside.  Revealed  in  her  benevolent  beauty,  she  will 
move  in  our  midst  scattering  the  gifts  she  has  brought. 

IV 

Tolstoy  seeks  to  set  humanity's  soul  free  from  slavery 
to  material  wants.  His  method  is  the  defective  one  of  try- 
ing to  eliminate  the  very  things  that  will  lift  man  above 
the  necessity  for  concentrating  all  his  energy  upon  his 
material  needs.  A  freedom  without  a  sound  economic  basis 
can  be  only  a  very  delusive  theory.  Unless  a  proposed 
system  can  offer  us  a  sound  economic  basis,  it  lacks  the 
essential  quality  of  being  workable.  Commerce,  money, 
trade,  wealth,  have  themselves  elucidated  their  moral  sig- 
nificance into  a  growing  consciousness  demanding  a  change. 
Are  the  changes  involved  in  Tolstoy's  scheme  those  to  which 
the  world  can  look  for  bringing  justice  and  happiness? 

"I  was  struck  by  the  facility  and  simplicity  of  the 
solution  of  all  these  problems  which  had  formerly  seemed 
to  me  so  difficult  and  complicated.  To  the  question,  'What 
have  we  to  do?'  I  received  a  very  plain  answer:  Do  first 
what  is  necessary  for  yourself;  arrange  all  you  can  by 
yourself, — your  tea-urn,  stove,  water,  clothes.  "^^  Eight 
hours  a  day  at  "bread  labor"  is  his  simple  declaration  of  a 
program  whereby  mankind  is  to  fulfill  all  that  life  means. 


18  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  248  (tr  Wiener,  p.  85). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoifs  ''What Is  To  Be  Done?"       241 

He  admits  that  it  would  do  away  with  much  of  our  present 
activity,  but  he  sees  no  reason  for  its  retention. 

"Such  labor  will  naturally  induce  people  to  leave  towns 
for  the  country,  where  this  labor  is  most  agreeable  and 
productive."^**  The  assumption  is  that  it  is  desirable  to 
abolish  town  life.  Tolstoy's  view  is  typically  one-sided. 
He  pictures  the  city  as  a  device  for  the  wealthy  to  gratify 
their  wish  for  showy  amusements  and  display.  In  a  desire 
for  pictures,  statues,  and  an  attractive  dwelling,  he  discerns 
only  vanity  or  a  wish  to  excite  the  envy  of  others.  Nothing 
but  misery  can  be  erected  on  such  a  foundation ;  necessaries 
are  carried  from  the  rural  districts ;  the  peasants  are  forced 
to  follow,  becoming  depraved  through  the  temptations  of 
city  life.  Such  a  picture  is  too  readily  accepted,  finds  too 
quick  and  gloomy  a  sympathy  in  much  that  we  hear  com- 
monly uttered.  "We  are  accustomed  to  taking  a  negative 
view  of  the  results  of  city  living.  Just  as  Tolstoy  did, 
because  of  an  old  habit  of  mind,  we  condemn  the  sin  and 
hardship  found  there  without  appreciating  the  construc- 
tive force  in  the  material  we  have.  For  the  simple  reason 
that  a  smaller  proportion  of  labor  is  required  to  produce 
our  agricultural  supplies  than  was  needed  under  old,  care- 
less methods,  the  migration  of  population  to  urban  centers 
is  an  entirely  natural  shifting. 

The  change  is  not  undesirable.  Economic  development 
has  rescued  man  from  the  state  designated  by  Marx  as  ''the 
idiocy  of  rural  life. ' '  Rural  communities  are  not  untouched 
by  evils.  Juvenile  court  records  in  cities  situated  in  the 
midst  of  agricultural  districts  contain  a  large  percentage 
of  cases  of  youth  depraved  in  the  village  or  country  and 
then  coming  to  the  city.  Rescue  homes  and  reformatories 
repeat  the  same  true  but  disregarded  warning  that  our 
assumption  of  the  superior  moral  stamina  of  country  popu- 
lation is  false.  The  rural  environment  offers  a  colorless, 
lifeless  existence  to  the  exuberant  spirit  of  youth.      Its 


20  lUd.,  p.  249  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  299). 


242  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

diversions  become  monotonous  to  those  who  are  avid  for 
variety  in  experience.  Supervision  is  lacking;  corruption 
can  creep  in  more  insidiously  than  in  the  city.  Town  life 
with  its  possibilities  for  control,  possibilities  for  clean 
amusements  made  practicable  by  the  fact  that  there  are  a 
sufficient  number  of  people  to  support  them,  town  life,  offer- 
ing the  inspiration  that  comes  from  contact  with  others,  the 
socializing  understanding  of  human  beings  possible  only 
where  people  are  agglomerated,  offers  sufficient  ground  for 
making  the  city  a  means  for  good  instead  of  evil.  We 
should  not  destroy  an  institution  having  within  it  great 
forces  for  civilization,  for  advancement,  for  human  living, 
but,  recognizing  that  it  contains  this  latent  significance,  we 
should  grasp  it  and  refuse  longer  to  permit  the  perversion 
of  such  a  power. 

Town  life,  as  Tolstoy  observes,  has  gathered  wealth.  This 
congestion  has  resulted  in  enterprises  such  as  factories, 
which  he  deplores  as  abnormal,  not  the  "natural  condition 
of  production."  Under  his  regime,  the  factory  would,  of 
course,  be  impossible,  for  manufacture  is  the  most  typical 
form  of  the  cooperation  based  on  the  division  of  labor.  If 
we  adopted  Tolstoy's  system  of  production,  we  should  be 
forced  back  to  the  earlier  form  of  home  manufacture  that 
has  been  tried  and  discarded  by  a  progressive  civilization. 
If  the  pictures  we  have  of  that  era  were  brighter,  Tolstoy 's 
suggestion  would  carry  more  conviction.  The  Children's 
Employment  Commission  in  England  (1864)  presents  us  a 
view  of  the  abuses  growing  out  of  home  manufacture  that 
should  dispel  any  illusions  we  have  as  to  its  superior  whole- 
someness. 

Lace  schools  are  kept  by  poor  women  in  their  cottages.  From 
their  fifth  year,  and  often  earlier,  until  their  twelfth  or  fifteenth 
year,  the  children  work  in  these  schools;  during  the  first  year  the 
very  young  ones  work  from  four  to  eight  hours,  and  later  on,  from 
six  in  the  morning  till  eight  and  ten  o'clock  at  night.  The  rooms 
are  generally  the  ordinary  living  rooms  of  small  cottages,  the 
chimney  stopped  up   to   keep  out   the   draughts,   the   inmates   kept 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       243 

warm  by  their  own  animal  heat  alone,  and  this  frequently  in  winter. 
In  other  cases,  these  so-called  school-rooms  are  like  small  store- 
rooms without  fireplaces.  The  overcrowding  in  these  dens  and  the 
consequent  vitiation  of  the  air  are  often  extreme.  Added  to  this 
are  the  injurious  effects  of  drains,  decomposing  substances,  and 
other  filth — usual  in  the  purlieus  of  the  smaller  cottages.  In  one 
lace  school  eighteen  girls  and  a  mistress,  thirty-five  cubic  feet  to 
a  person;  in  another,  where  the  smell  was  unbearable,  eighteen 
persons  and  twenty-four  cubic  feet  per  head.  Here  are  to  be  found 
children  of  two  to  two  and  a  half  years.-i 

One  other  concrete  demonstration  from  real  life  may- 
show  the  result  of  industry  and  education  in  the  form  to 
which  Tolstoy  believes  we  should  adhere : 

The  children  commence  their  instruction  in  straw-plaiting  gen- 
erally in  their  fourth,  often  between  their  third  and  fourth  year. 
Other  education,  of  course,  they  get  none.  The  children  themselves 
call  the  elementary  schools  "natural  schools"  to  distinguish  them 
from  those  blood-sucking  institutions,  in  which  they  are  kept  at 
work  simply  to  get  through  the  task,  generally  thirty  yards  daily, 
jirescribed  by  their  half-starved  mothers.  These  same  mothers 
often  make  them  work  at  home  till  ten,  eleven,  and  twelve  o'clock 
at  night.  The  straw  cuts  their  mouths,  with  which  they  constantly 
moisten  it,  and  their  fingers.  .  .  .  Thus  do  the  children  enjoy  life 
until  the  age  of  twelve  or  fourteen.  The  wretched,  half-starved 
parents  think  of  nothing  but  getting  as  much  as  possible  out  of 
their  children.  The  latter,  as  soon  as  they  are  grown  up,  do  not 
care  a  farthing,  and  naturally  so,  for  their  parents,  and  leave  them. 
Tt  is  no  wonder  that  ignorance  and  vice  abound  in  a  population  so 
brought  up.     Their  morality  is  at  the  lowest  ebb. 22 

Such  are  the  results  actually  working  out  from  condi- 
tions of  labor  practically  identical  with  the  plan  in  which 
Tolstoy  would  have  us  attempt  salvation.  Under  his  sys- 
tem, with  eight  hours  given  by  each  individual  to  satisfy- 
ing the  most  primitive  needs,  wealth  of  goods  would  be 
dangerously  reduced,  owing  to  the  lowering  in  production 

21  Children's  Employment  Commission,  Serond  Report  (London, 
1864),  pp.  29,  30. 

22  Ibid.,  pp.  40,  41. 


244  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

that  would  occur.  Humanity  avouIcI  soon  fall  to  that  level 
where  want  threatens  to  overtake,  and  drives  on  to  soul- 
cramping,  sordid  toil. 

Want  quickens  wit.    Want's  pupils  needs  must  work, 

O  Diophantus:  for  the  child  of  toil 

Is  grudged  his  very  sleep  by  carking  cares: 

Or,  if  he  taste  the  blessedness  of  night, 

Thought  for  tne  morrow  soon  warns  slumber  off.23 

Instead  of  attaining  freedom,  the  race  would  be  forced  into 
slavery  to  such  things  as  shelter,  clothing,  and  food. 

"Want  quickens  wit,"  and  man  was  soon  led  to  see  the 
stupidity  of  employing  a  hundred  hands  to  do  the  work  that 
could  be  done  by  one.  The  inventiveness  that  resulted  from 
the  desire  to  outdistance  want  has  always  touched  the  imag- 
ination of  those  great  minds  that  interpret  humanity,  with 
its  power  for  release.  This  greeting  Aristotle  gives:  "If 
every  tool  when  summoned,  or  even  of  its  own  accord,  could 
do  the  work  that  befits  it,  just  as  the  creations  of  Daedalus 
moved  of  themselves,  or  the  tripods  of  Hephaestos  went  of 
their  own  accord  to  their  sacred  work,  if  the  weaver's 
shuttles  were  to  weave  themselves,  then  there  would  be  no 
need  either  of  apprentices  for  the  master  workers,  or  of 
slaves  for  the  lords.  "^* 

The  invention  of  the  water-wheel  was  hailed  by  Anti- 
paros,  a  Greek  poet  of  Cicero's  time,  as  the  bearer  of  free- 
dom to  the  female  slaves  and  the  bringer  back  of  the  golden 
age.  In  1782,  even  when  the  transition  of  the  industrial 
revolution  made  most  acute  the  abuses  that  perversion  of 
machinery  had  induced,  the  German  poet,  Stolberg,  sings 
the  inherent  meaning  of  the  machine  to  the  race : 

Schonet  der  mahlenden  Hand,  o  Miillerinnen,  und  schlafet 
Sanft!  es  verkiinde  der  Hand  euch  Morgen  umsonst! 
DJio  hat  die  Arbeit  der  Madchen  den  Nymphen  befohlen, 
Und  jetz  hiipfen  sie  leicht  iiber  die  Rader  dahin, 


23  Theocritus,   Idylls,  translated  by   C.   S.   Calverley    (ed.   5,  Lon- 
don, 1908),  p.  114. 

24  Aristotle,  Philosophy  (Berlin,  1842),  vol.  2,  p.  408. 


1912]     Matthews :  Tolstoy 's  ' '  What  Is  To  Be  Done  ? ' '       245 

Dass  die  erschiittenden  Achsen  mit  ihren  Speichen  sich  walzen, 
Und  im  Kreise  die  Last  drehen  des  walzenden  Steins, 
Lasst  uns  leben  das  Leben  der  Viiter,  und  lasst  uns  der  Gaben 
Arbeitlos  uns  freun  welehe  die  Gottin  uns  sehenkt.25 
♦  *»*»» 

Spare  the  hand  that  grinds  the  corn,  O  miller  girls,  and  softly 
sleep.  Let  Chanticleer  announce  the  morn  in  vain!  Deo  has  com- 
manded the  work  of  the  girls  to  be  done  by  the  Nymphs,  and  now  they 
skip  lightly  over  the  wheels,  so  that  the  shaken  axles  revolve  with 
their  spokes  and  pull  around  the  load  of  the  revolving  stones.  Let 
us  rest  from  work  and  enjoy  the  gifts  the  goddess  sends  us." 

The  significant  spiritual  truth  of  mechanical  inventive- 
ness has  been  discerned  by  those  whose  genius  gives  them 
identification  with  the  universal  meaning  of  life's  expres- 
sions. A  strange  economic  paradox  is  presented  in  that 
the  most  powerful  instrument  for  freeing  man  from 
slavery  becomes  a  means  of  exploitation.  Suffering  and 
abuses,  the  exploitation  of  women  and  children,  low 
wages,  pauperism  forced  upon  a  large  number  who  would 
have  preferred  self-respecting  independence,  have  been 
darkly  conjoined  Avith  the  factory  system.  Uncompen- 
sated industrial  accidents,  loss  of  life,  of  which  we  have  a 
recent  and  terrible  example  in  the  Triangle  Factory  fire 
in  New  York,  or  others  in  which  slower  and  more  insidious 
death  results  from  the  working  conditions  of  day  by  day, 
all  must  be  admitted  in  our  present  handling.  ' '  So  that, ' ' 
as  Tolstoy  charges,  "if  to  the  question  as  to  the  reality  of 
the  successes  attained  by  the  sciences  and  arts,  we  apply, 
not  our  rapture  of  self -contemplation,  but  the  very  standard 
on  which  the  ground  of  division  of  labor  is  defended — 
utility  to  the  working  world — we  shall  see  that  we  have  not 
yet  any  sound  reason  for  the  self -contentment  to  which  we 
consign  ourselves  so  willingly."^® 

*'If  a  peasant  uses  the  railway,  and  buys  a  lamp,  calico, 
and  matches,  he  does  it  only  because  we  cannot  forbid  his 


25  Christian  Stolberg,  Gedichte  aus  dem  Griechischen    (Hamburg, 
1782). 

26  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  215  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  260). 


246  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

doing  so :  we  all  know  very  well  that  railways  and  factories 
have  never  been  built  for  the  use  of  the  people ;  why,  then, 
should  the  casual  comfort  a  workingman  obtains  by  chance 
be  brought  forward  as  proof  of  the  usefulness  of  these  insti- 
tutions to  the  people.  "^^  Tolstoy  here  discerns  the  fallacy 
of  our  reasoning  about  industrial  situations.  Viewing  the 
casual  comfort  the  workingman  obtains  by  chance,  we  con- 
sign ourselves  too  readily  to  self-contentment  with  things 
as  they  are.  Instead,  however,  of  concluding  with  him  that 
the  system  of  production  itself  should  be  abolished  as  use- 
less, we  should  rather  place  in  strong  contrast  the  other 
point  of  view,  which  insists  upon  the  interpretation  of  the 
force  for  service  inherent  within  the  institutions  that  we 
have  and  with  which  we  must  deal,  and  this  more  enlight- 
ened conception  will  abolish  the  abuses  because  those  insti- 
tutions have  been  rid  of  the  fallacies  with  w^hich  they  have 
so  long  been  defaced.  We  must  remember,  however  slow  the 
emergence  of  higher  motives  is,  that,  looking  back  upon  the 
evolution  of  industrialism,  we  find  hopeful  ground  for  be- 
lieving that  the  ethical  conquers  in  the  end.  History  is  full 
of  examples  where  nations,  like  individuals,  have  acted  un- 
selfishly and  have  followed  the  generous  promptings  of 
altruism.  We  see  the  opposition  that  has  made  the  struggle 
for  factory  laws  a  long  and  painful  process  and  find  dis- 
couragement ;  but  humanity  suffering  to  the  limit  of  its 
capacity  touches  hearts,  even  the  capitalistic  heart;  so  we 
find  also  that  the  needed  laws  finally  win  the  support  of  a 
sufficient  number  of  those  who  opposed,  to  make  them  a 
working  reality.  Victories  come  more  easily  than  in  an 
earlier  day.  The  question  is  not  now  so  much  one  of  over- 
coming resistance  as  it  is  to  devise  a  scheme  that  really 
does  mean  the  widest,  happiest  living  unattended  by  disas- 
ter. Here  is  where  the  conflict  of  opinion  comes  in.  Here 
is  Avhere  tho.se  faring  in  search  for  the  modern  Grail,  the  tie 
blending  man's  material  and  spiritual  development,  find  the 
adventure  to  engage  their  bravery  and  wisdom. 


^T  Ibid.,  p.  216  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  260), 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       247 

Aside  from  all  the  recognized  material  advantages  of 
division  of  labor  that  have  become  axiomatic,  harmony  of 
purpose  is  also  embedded  therein,  not  that  opposition  which 
Tolstoy  believes  to  be  its  concomitant.  Only  by  interde- 
pendence and  the  deeper  collective  consciousness  that  this 
develops  are  the  virtues  of  consideration  and  justice  to  each 
other  made  a  practical  necessity.  Each  class  is  growing  into 
perceptible  appreciation  of  its  dependence  on  the  other  and 
this  is  creating  a  spirit  that  makes  it  possible  to  look  for- 
ward to  abolishing  the  abuses  of  the  division  of  labor. 
People  have  learned  not  to  despise  those  upon  whom  they 
rely  for  services  fundamental  to  life  and  well-being.  The 
measure  of  respect  that  the  public  accords  to  employers  is 
frequently  the  degree  of  his  respect  for  the  rights  of  his 
workmen,  the  understanding  he  has  of  how  much  he  owes 
them  for  services  without  which  he  would  be  helpless.  Un- 
selfishness is  not  apt  to  be  the  outgrowth  of  deliberate  will. 
Social  unselfishness  must  usually  have  its  rise  in  some  hard 
fact  of  mutual  need  gradually  transmuting  itself  into  un- 
conscious, effective  habit. 

It  is  true  that  looking  at  the  long  past  expressions  of 
division  of  labor,  we  see  hardly  anything  to  praise,  admire, 
or  imitate;  we  see  complex  errors  forming  a  big  blunder^ — 
but  errors  have  startled  the  conscience  of  society  to  their 
consequences.  Division  of  labor  has  taught  the  race  valu- 
able lessons  in  cooperation  and  human  sympathy.  We  look 
forward  to  the  time  when  equalization  of  toil  will  come 
about  by  a  lifting  process,  instead  of  by  the  backward  move- 
ment advocated  by  Tolstoy,  where  all  are  equal  because  each 
washes  his  own  clothing  and  thus  learns  to  be  content  with 
dirt ;  where  each  prepares  his  own  food  and  learns  to  be 
satisfied  with  coarse,  monotonous  fare ;  where  each  one  must 
be  so  absorbed  in  the  routine  of  his  own  material,  funda- 
mental needs  that  he  has  no  time  either  for  serving  others 
or  for  adding  to  the  happiness  of  society. 


248  University  of  California  Priz^,  Essays         [Vol.  1 


We  cannot  believe  that  drudgery  is  a  means  for  pro- 
moting more  sympathetic  living.  "The  understanding  of 
the  greater  part  of  men, ' '  says  Adam  Smith,  ' '  is  necessarily 
formed  by  their  ordinary  employment.  The  man  whose  life 
is  spent  in  performing  a  few  simple  operations  has  no  occa- 
sion to  exert  his  understanding.  He  generally  becomes  as 
stupid  and  ignorant  as  it  is  possible  for  a  human  creature 
to  become.  The  torpor  of  his  mind  renders  him  not  only 
incapable  of  relishing  or  bearing  a  part  in  any  rational  con- 
versation, but  of  conceiving  any  generous,  noble,  or  tender 
sentiments,  and  consequently  forming  any  just  judgment 
concerning  many  even  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  private 
life."^^  Tolstoy's  system  would  embody  all  these  evils 
which  we  deplore  in  the  perversion  of  the  division  of  labor. 
His  routine  would  promote  a  state  wherein  virtue  is  sodden 
contentment  arising  from  a  satisfaction  with  life  narrowed 
to  the  details  of  supplying  the  merest  necessities  in  the  most 
primitive  way. 

Wilks  in  Historical  Sketches  in  the  South  of  India  gives 
us  a  picture  of  such  a  self-sufficing  community :  ' '  This  sim- 
plicity supplies  the  secret  of  the  unchangeableness  of 
Asiatic  societies.  The  structure  of  the  economic  elements 
remains  untouched  by  the  storm  clouds  of  the  political 
sky. '  '-^  Stamford  Raffles  finds  similar  conditions  in  Java : 
"Under  this  simple  form  the  inhabitants  of  the  country 
have  lived  since  time  immemorial.  The  villages  have  been 
but  seldom  altered ;  and  though  the  villages  themselves  have 
been  sometimes  injured,  and  even  desolated  by  war,  famine, 
and  disease,  the  same  name,  the  same  limits,  the  same  inter- 
ests, and  even  the  same  families  have  continued  for  ages. 
The  inhabitants  give  themselves  no  trouble  about  the  break- 


2»  Wealth  of  Nations  (London,  Methuen,  1904),  p.  267. 
2»  Mark  Wilks,  Historical  Sketches  in  the  South  of  India    (Lon- 
don, 1810-17),  vol.  i,  pp.  118-120. 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's"What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       249 

ing  up  and  division  of  kingdoms  while  the  villages  remain 
entire ;  they  care  not  to  what  power  it  is  transferred,  or  to 
what  sovereign  it  devolves;  its  internal  economy  remains 
unchanged."^" 

Even  did  such  a  life  of  stupid  placidity  attract,  it  is  not 
conceivable  that  it  could  exist  universally.  Total  lack  of 
interest  in  government  would  soon  lead  to  intolerable  des- 
potism and  abuses  that  only  a  people  of  dulled  sensibilities 
could  endure.  Tolstoy's  policy  of  anarchy  is  quite  useless. 
Government  was  evolved  to  afford  relief  from  the  insecurity 
of  a  state  of  savagery  which  was  attended  by  the  constant 
danger  to  the  individual  of  being  robbed  and  killed.  Bands 
without  government  have  evidently  been  unstable  and 
doomed  to  perish,  for  we  have  no  trace  of  such  left.  Before 
man  can  gain  anything  else,  order  is  requisite,  and  rigid, 
definite  laws  are  the  primary  base  for  such  order.  "Men 
are  not  born  fit  for  citizenship,"  observes  Spinoza,  "but 
must  be  made  so.  "^^  Since  human  nature  is  not  so  con- 
stituted that  men  most  desire  the  most  useful,  "a  dominion 
must  be  so  ordered  that  all,  governing  and  governed  alike, 
whether  they  will  or  no,  shall  do  what  makes  for  the  gen- 
eral welfare. '  '^" 

This  necessity  for  the  disciplining  power  of  common 
rules  has  been  most  appreciated  by  those  nearest  the  remem- 
brance of  a  state  of  disorganization.  In  our  liberal  days 
we  are  surprised  to  find  Plato,  Aristotle,  Xenophon,  all 
assuming  the  extreme  difficulty  with  which  man  may  be 
governed,  and  laying  down  theories  of  rigor  and  super- 
vision far  more  conservative  than  we  hold  after  many  gen- 
erations of  increasing  complexity.  If  Tolstoy's  view  is 
valid,  that  man  reduced  to  a  lower  primitive  state  could 
wholly  be  trusted,  we  might  reasonably  expect  to  find  such 
a  truth  reflected  in  the  writings  of  those  who  lived  near 


30  Thomas  Stamford  Eaffles,  The  History  of  Java  (London,  1817), 
vol.  i,  p.  285. 

SI  A  Political  Treatise  (London,  Bell,  1909),  p.  313. 

32  Ibid.,  p.  316. 


250  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  i 

enough  to  the  actual  existence  of  such  conditions  to  hold 
them  within  the  memory  of  man.  If  now  we  may  safely 
reckon  in  governmental  problems  upon  obedience  and  social 
action,  it  is  because  we  have  come  to  respond  by  habit  to 
the  conduct  those  earlier  writers  hoped  to  gain  only  by  con- 
scious enforcement. 

Peculiarly  Russian  conditions  make  Tolstoy's  statements 
about  the  various  details  of  government,  such  as  taxation, 
exaggerated.  In  his  denunciation  we  concur  all  the  more 
readily  because  other  and  happier  nations  have  proved  how 
futile  and  unnecessary  are  the  sufferings  due  to  such  severe 
policies.  Our  test  must  be  whether  he  has  grasped  and  set 
forth  any  truth  of  universal  significance  by  which  the  con- 
science of  the  nations  should  be  troubled.  "Give  me  this 
money,  and  do  what  you  like  among  yourselves,  but  know 
that  I  shall  neither  protect  nor  maintain  widows  or  orphans 
nor  invalids  nor  old  people,  nor  such  as  have  been  burned 
out ;  I  shall  only  protect  the  regular  circulation  of  this  money. 
This  right  will  always  be  mine,  to  protect  only  those  who 
regularly  give  me  the  fixed  number  of  these  pieces  of  money ; 
as  to  how  or  where  you  get  it,  I  will  not  in  the  least  trouble 
myself.  "^^  In  taxation  he  found  the  concrete  expression 
of  a  national  spirit  permeated  by  pecuniary  considerations. 
This  same  concrete  spirit  other  nations  may  exhibit  in  greed 
suavely  termed  industrial  enterprise.  We  see  it  in  a  policy 
of  legislation  blinded  by  the  show  of  a  respectable  pros- 
perity to  the  grim  realities  of  poverty,  of  wage  oppression, 
of  exploited  and  suffering  human  beings.  The  long  and 
tragic  story  of  every  effort  toward  protection  of  the  laborer 
or  the  improvement  of  the  living  conditions  of  the  poor 
makes  vocal  the  callousness  of  a  large  part  of  society.  The 
fact  that  the  propertied  and  privileged  have  been  able  to 
retard  every  movement  toward  raising  the  standard  for  the 
lower  classes,  the  sordid  history  of  graft,  of  corrupted  law 
makers,  tolerated  and  even  lauded  commercial  crimes,  gives 


33  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  119  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  139). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "  What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       251 

ample  evidence  of  governments  blinded  in  spirit  "to  pro- 
tect only  those  who  give  me  the  fixed  number  of  these  pieces 
of  money."  While  this  is  not  a  tax  in  a  technical  sense,  it 
is,  no  less,  a  price  exacted  from  the  weak,  because  govern- 
ments have  assumed  that  low  wages,  excessive  work  hours, 
wretched  living  conditions  were  factors  in  the  prosperity  of 
those  who  have  property  and  merited  protection  because 
they  gave  "the  fixed  number  of  these  pieces  of  money." 
The  insensibility,  the  mixture  of  "callousness  and  senti- 
mentality, ' '  the  complacent  prejudice  of  society,  merit  such 
a  stinging  lash  as  Tolstoy's  scorn  of  hard  and  inconsistent 
national  conduct. 

But  slowly  commerce,  treaties,  sciences,  arts,  elucidate 
themselves  into  an  insistence  that  they  shall  be  freed  from 
accusations  of  having  nothing  but  baseness  to  contribute 
to  the  world.  By  a  curious  involution  economic  progress, 
in  whose  name  governments  have  committed  so  many  crimes, 
brings  its  own  vindication.  The  keen  life-struggle  has  ab- 
sorbed the  time  of  the  people.  They  have  been  deterred  in 
a  careless  disregard  of  evils  growing  up  about  them  and  have 
left  reform  in  the  hands  of  selfish  politicians.  But  with 
productiveness  reaching  the  point  of  plenty,  it  is  no  longer 
necessary  to  make  every  interest  subservient  to  the  satisfy- 
ing of  mere  material  essentials.  Surplus  energy  releases 
itself  into  an  awakened  imagination  that  grasps  the  signific- 
ance of  the  human  organization  and  insists  that  government 
shall  measure  up  to  the  purpose  of  its  creation.  Taxes  are 
more  and  more  being  directed  into  the  channel  of  return  by 
way  of  better  sanitation,  better  streets,  better  schools,  more 
efficient  public  servants. 

Governments  have  not  been  required  to  do  enough.  They 
have,  to  a  great  extent,  been  left  disregarded  by  the  people 
whom  they  ruled.  A  brief  revolution  might  bring  an  out- 
ward change,  but  it  did  not  grow  into  a  part  of  the  life 
of  the  people.  Governments  have  been  looked  upon  as 
removed  from  intimate  connection  with  every-day  occupa- 
tions and  problems — an  automatic  machine  working  without 


252  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

public  attention.  The  long  centuries  when  government's 
chief  role  was  bringing  the  lawless,  wilful  human  race  into 
marching  discipline  lingers  today  in  adherence  to  an  atti- 
tude required  by  governments  in  a  more  primitive  time. 
Very  slowly  is  the  encasement  of  custom  removed. 

' '  It  was  government  by  discussion  which  broke  the  bonds 
of  ages  and  set  free  the  originality  of  mankind."^*  Once 
more  are  we  looking  to  this  force.  The  Industrial  Revolu- 
tion and  the  revolution  in  political  thought  came  together 
in  the  eighteenth  century.  For  a  time  development  has  con- 
tinued in  a  one-sided  course.  The  race  was  like  a  hungry 
boy,  who  had  never  had  enough  to  eat,  finding  himself  left 
unrestrained  in  a  room  full  of  tempting  food.  But  now 
in  these  present  days  other  needs  are  coming  to  the  surface 
once  more.  The  world  is  again  seizing  the  fact  that  "gov- 
ernment by  discussion  "  is  a  possession  to  be  used  for  service. 

VI 

What  is  to  be  done?  Worn  with  the  sufferings  with 
which  he  has  identified  himself,  oppressed  by  the  complica- 
tions, the  wrongs,  the  abuses  that  entangle  the  threads  of 
our  civilization,  Tolstoy  expends  all  his  strength  on  his 
great  summons  to  the  world  to  abandon  its  predetermina- 
tions, to  admit  and  realize  that  moral  laws  must  be  re- 
garded as  a  phase  of  every  activity.  No  one  has  perceived 
more  deeply  the  fundamental  truth  that  must  be  the  basis 
of  the  world's  happiness.  "In  the  same  way  mankind 
seems  to  be  occupied  with  commerce,  treaties,  wars,  sciences, 
arts;  and  yet  for  them  one  thing  only  is  important,  and 
they  do  only  that, — they  are  elucidating  those  moral  laws 
by  which  they  live."^^  The  elucidation  Tolstoy  sees  is 
shadowed  darkly  by  a  temperamental  gloom  which  makes 
him  view  the  bringing  about  of  a  better  spirit  in  society 
as  impossible  so  long  as  we  retain  the  outward  system  with 


34  Walter  Bagchot,  Physics  and  Politics  (London,  1900),  p.  135. 

35  What  Is  To  Be  Done?,  p.  57  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  67). 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  "What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       253 

which  our  habits  conform.  A  strange  lack  of  logic  per- 
vades his  whole  book.  Depth  and  fervor  of  moral  sentiment 
he  possesses,  which  touch  many  hearts  with  the  indefinable 
gift  of  sympathy,  love  of  simple  truth,  and  the  things  of 
the  spirit.  In  this  must  lie  his  distinction,  for  he  has 
neither  correct  thought  nor  sound  judgment  to  apply  to 
the  exigencies  of  practical  organization.  Such  leaders  of 
souls  may  even  carry  peril  with  them.  They  incline  men 
to  be  content  with  aspirations  for  lack  of  direction.  "Whole- 
some living  and  intellectual  integrity  result  from  entertain- 
ing a  set  of  ideals  and  principles  which,  while  inspiring  and 
attractive,  at  the  same  time  are  not  visionary,  but  prac- 
ticable. 

Tolstoy  exhibits  the  same  weakness  that  might  come 
from  being  too  weary  to  cope  with  the  increasing  problems 
of  advancement.  He  has  no  vigorous  and  progressive  scheme 
to  offer  upon  which  may  be  expended  the  force  of  the  will- 
ingness for  a  new  conception  of  life  and  service  which  he 
implants.  Sorrow,  age,  disappointment,  bring  a  desire  for 
peaceful  immunity  from  struggle  and  effort.  The  trite, 
classical  ostrich  hides  his  head  and  deludes  himself  into  a 
feeling  of  safety  from  a  purely  introspective  point  of  view. 
Tolstoy  presents  a  combination  of  the  two  ideas.  He  tells 
humanity  that  it  has  become  aged  and  sorrow-stricken,  dis- 
appointed over  its  mistaken  attempts  toward  happiness, 
therefore  it  should  retire  from  the  field,  believing  that 
refusal  to  behold  the  foe  will  really  destroy  the  foe. 

The  barrenness  of  material  comfort  ensuing  from  his 
program  would  not  deter  him.  The  struggle  with  elemental 
conditions  would  be  painful,  he  admits,  but  he  sees  the 
road  to  virtue  only  in  such  painfulness.  "Only  by  suffer- 
ings that  spiritual  fruit  is  produced,"^"  he  declares,  and 
again  he  asserts  that  man 's  welfare  consists  entirely  in  self- 
denial.^^ 


30  Ibid.,  p.  237  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  285). 
37  Ibid.,  p.  238  (tr.  Wiener,  p.  286). 


254  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [You  1 

Patten  tells  the  story  of  a  follower  of  Rousseau  who 
excited  the  anger  of  a  policeman  and  was  threatened  with 
arrest  for  cruelty  to  his  children  unless  he  should  clothe 
more  warmly  the  two  little  boys  shivering  in  an  icy  wind 
as  they  tearfully  trotted  back  and  forth.  The  father  ex- 
poimded  that  he  was  hardening  them.  "What  for?"  re- 
joined the  ofificer,  "Haven't  you  a  furnace,  and  aren't  the 
schools  warm,  and  aren  't  they  making  an  ordinance  to  heat 
street-cars  ?  Nobody  will  make  them  cry  but  yourself.  Those 
children  ought  to  have  long  stockings  on. ' '  The  policeman 
knew  nothing  about  theories  of  the  desirability  of  getting 
back  to  a  state  of  nature,  and,  in  the  light  of  plain  com- 
mon sense,  was  annoyed  by  the  irrationality  of  training 
children  to  be  innured  to  dangers  existing  before  universal 
heating  plants.  Quite  other  education  was  needed  for  those 
reluctant  little  legs  to  fit  them  for  the  world  in  which  they 
were  to  live.^^ 

The  philosophy  of  the  value  of  disciplinary  hardships 
is  out  of  harmony  with  a  civilization  having  ample  resources. 
The  new  education  must  fit  the  race  to  live  in  a  rich  and 
lavish  world.  Systems  of  ethics  must  keep  pace  with  the 
possibilities  for  expression  earth  offers.  Hitherto  man  has 
sought  to  reconcile  himself  to  the  * '  sweet  uses  of  adversity, ' ' 
so  often  have  his  desires  and  endeavors  been  forced  to  ap- 
pear the  antithesis  of  what  was  practicable  in  an  environ- 
ment full  of  disaster,  emptiness,  and  uncertainties.  He 
sought  comfort  in  the  belief  that  the  finest  characters  were 
the  result  of  suffering.  The  assumption  has  been  that  the 
world  to  be  met  was  barren  and  full  of  pain.  Saints  and 
ascetics  have  been  revered  for  giving  proof  of  their  ability 
to  endure  an  artificial  hunger  and  discomfort  not  imposed 
by  natural  lot.  The  gloomy  soul  in  literature  and  in  art 
has  too  often  been  hailed  as  the  truest  interpreter  of  life's 
meaning. 


38  S.  N.  Patten,  The  New  Basis  of  Civilization  (New  York,  Mae- 
millan,  1907),  p.  152. 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  ''What Is  To  Be  Done?"       255 

Economic  precariousness,  education,  religion,  have  united 
to  make  us  fearful  of  looking  to  joy  and  plenty  for  building 
of  character.  Beholding  the  dasires  of  the  race  expanding 
to  meet  the  developed  productiveness,  we  hear  deploring 
voices  crying  out,  as  Tolstoy  does,  upon  the  tendency  to- 
ward comfort  and  beauty  as  ennervating  and  inherently 
destructive  of  virtue.  If  they  are,  then  our  case  is  hopeless, 
for  the  days  of  profuse  wealth  are  upon  us.  There  are  two 
courses :  Sacrifice  and  strife  for  necessities  may  be  retained 
as  arts  or  professions,  which  Tolstoy 's  method  would  amount 
to ;  or  we  may  direct  the  development  of  man  into  the  type 
fitted  to  live  in  an  environment  of  peace  and  plenty. 

In  the  dreary  view^  that  beauty  of  character  springs  only 
from  a  barren  soil  exposed  to  cold  and  tempest,  we  find  a 
worn-out  theory  that  man  adopted  in  despair,  when  hard 
pressed  by  conditions  from  which  he  saw  no  escape  and 
against  which  he  would  otherwise  have  been  bitterly  rebel- 
lious. But  commerce,  treaties,  governments,  sciences,  and 
all  the  varied  business  of  the  world  have  shown  more  than 
anything  else  that  economic  safety  and  a  fuller  life  con- 
stantly make  men  better,  and  that  these  activities  them- 
selves have  implanted  traits  needful  for  the  richer  medium 
they  have  created  for  a  dwelling-place.  The  acquired  pes- 
simism of  ages  is  not  easily  cast  off.  Man  has  suffered  so 
many  calamities  that  he  cannot  yet  trust  the  permanency  of 
the  promise  of  a  better  era.  Optimism,  blindness,  super- 
ficiality, are  charged  against  those  who  declare  themselves 
cheered  by  the  indications  of  present  tendencies.  Granting 
the  soundness  of  the  material  foundation  embedded  in  the 
solid  fact  of  industrial  achievement,  we  are  met  with  doubt- 
ing fears  that  man  may  not  be  equal  to  evolving  sufficient 
character  for  sustaining  himself  if  he  is  no  longer  forced 
to  endure  the  perils  of  hunger,  battle,  and  insecurity. 

The  good,  old-fashioned  virtues  are  shrouded  in  much 
misconception,  built  up  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  situation. 
Cunning,  greed,  insensibility,  brute  force,  are  developed  in 
an  age  characterized  by  deficit,  disease,  oppression.    "We  may 


256  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  1 

call  them  keenness,  thrift,  endurance,  bravery  if  we  will, 
but  it  does  not  alter  their  real  nature,  as  we  shall  come  to 
appreciate  when  we  catch  the  expression  of  those  traits 
made  possible  by  the  new  age  of  surplus  and  security.  If 
we  wish  to  make  a  fruit-tree  thrive  w^e  select  the  best  soil 
for  it,  where  it  is  sheltered  from  frosts  and  buffeting  winds. 
The  owner  of  a  stock  farm,  in  order  to  bring  out  the  strong 
points  of  his  valuable  herds,  does  not  expose  them  to  cutting 
storms,  to  wretched  pasture,  and  to  beasts  of  prey.  The 
survivors  of  such  treatment  may,  indeed,  be  judged  to  have 
proved  unusual  toughness,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  this 
quality  could  not  have  been  expended  to  better  advantage 
than  in  resisting  useless  hardships,  nor  that  the  purpose  of 
raising  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses  is  to  demonstrate  how  much 
they  can  endure  and  still  live. 

Society  must  detach  itself  from  the  concept  that  barren 
conditions  and  pain  carry  with  them  compensations  in  the 
way  of  superior  character.  The  gnawing  of  hunger  for 
sufficient  food,  for  amusement,  for  light  and  beauty,  has 
driven  more  girls  into  the  unspeakable  degradation  and 
weakness  of  prostitution  than  it  has  ever  helped  to  a  higher 
plane  by  giving  them  opportunity  for  endurance  and  re- 
sistance. Poverty  has  inculcated  a  pauper  spirit  much 
oftener  than  it  has  incited  industry  and  virtuous  content- 
ment with  simplicity.  A  weary  hardness,  a  saddened  and 
distorted  outlook,  are  far  more  apt  to  follow  a  long  period 
of  suffering  than  are  those  "spiritual  fruits"  which  make 
for  breadth  and  depth  of  character. 

Two  concepts,  then,  must  place  themselves  side  by  side : 
one  is  that  hideous  deformity  frequently  results  from  suf- 
fering, those  escaping  it  doing  so  because  of  some  power 
within  themselves  not  at  all  to  be  credited  to  the  pain  in- 
flicted upon  them ;  the  second  is  that  there  is  no  longer  any 
economic  excuse  for  the  social  sufferings  that  have  their 
root  in  an  older  age  of  insufficiency.  Comprehending  these 
two  salient  facts,  society  cannot  complacently  accept  unjust 
conditions  in  the  distribution  of  wealth.    Public  opinion  will 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's^What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       257 

give  stronger  wing  and  swifter  flight  to  those  schemes  of 
reconstruction  promising  a  solution  of  the  maladjustments 
that  rob  children  of  playtime  and  youth,  that  force  many 
to  work  long,  monotonous  hours  when  machines  have  been 
devised  to  release  mankind  from  such  necessity,  that  leave 
shivering  men  to  seek  in  vain  for  employment  in  a  w^orld 
where  there  is  plenty  to  do. 

Wlien  individual  life  and  misery  give  concreteness  to 
such  maladjustments,  we  are  ready  to  shatter  the  old  sorry 
scheme  of  things  to  bits  in  order  to  "remould  it  nearer  to 
the  heart's  desire."  We  are  glad,  then,  to  discover  that 
commerce,  factories,  inventions,  money,  sciences,  are  ca- 
pable of  an  interpretation  which  permits  society  to  retain 
them,  so  that  no  such  ruthless  shattering  as  Tolstoy  advocates 
is  required.  The  changing  order  demonstrates  itself  in  a 
new"  form  of  legislation  forbidding  exploitation,  regulating 
working  conditions,  instituting  insurance  against  the  pov- 
erty of  old  age,  sickness,  unemployment.  Above  all,  it  ex- 
presses itself  in  a  slowly  shifting  point  of  view,  built  up 
from  the  spirit  of  cooperation  necessitated  by  our  indus- 
trial interdependence,  making  for  the  universality  of  per- 
sonal identification  that  Tolstoy  so  truthfully  sees  must 
underlie  social  justice. 

Are  we  to  conclude,  then,  that  "the  heart's  desire"  must 
be  eliminated,  that  man's  w^elfare  "entirely  consists  in  self- 
denial  ? ' '  Tolstoy  declares  that  God  and  nature  have  put  all 
in  a  position  where  "they  must  unceasingly  war  with 
want.  "^'^  But  since  the  progress  of  the  centuries  proves 
to  us  now  that  we  need  not  devote  our  entire  time  to  this 
war,  does  not  one  of  the  moral  elucidations  of  economic 
activities  seem  to  be  that  self-denial  is  not  the  highest  ex- 
pression of  harmony  with  nature  and  with  God?  Sacrifice 
accepted  for  the  paramount,  governing  principle  in  any 
life  leads  to  inaction.  All  energy  would  be  poured  into 
negation.    Would  it  not  also  mean  repression  of  force  that 


39  See  p.  238  of  this  paper. 


258  University  of  California  Prize  Essays         [Vol.  l 

should  be  expended  for  good  ?  Expression,  vivid,  awakened 
activity  gives  the  force  for  progress  and  attainment.  Moral 
characteristics  rise  when  channels  are  opened  for  proper 
self-expression.  A  young  girl  from  a  parasitical,  ignorant 
people  exhibiting  chiefly  the  traits  of  economic  vagabond- 
age, w^as  compelled  by  means  of  law  and  a  diligent  truant 
officer  to  attend  school.  The  child 's  environment  had  never 
given  her  a  glimpse  of  the  possibility  of  finding  work 
pleasureable.  Her  desire  for  beauty  had  satisfied  itself  only 
by  means  of  a  bit  of  tawdry  ribbon  or  silk  which  she  had 
picked  from  the  loads  deposited  on  the  city  dump  near 
which  she  lived.  Food  was  seldom  sufficient.  Self-denial 
had  been  the  ordering  program  of  her  life.  The  teacher  into 
whose  charge  she  came  was  full  of  an  animation  which  gave 
her  an  air  of  keen  pleasure  in  her  tasks.  The  prettiness  of 
her  clothing  was  a  matter  of  course  that  impressed  the 
child's  mind  strangely.  The  next  sununer  the  child  drifted 
carelessly  into  work  as  a  milliner's  errand  girl.  She  blun- 
dered, shirked,  fell  into  Juvenile  Court  hands  because  she 
had  formed  associations  dangerous  to  her  morality.  The 
officer  in  whose  charge  she  was  placed,  discovered  that  the 
teacher  of  the  previous  winter  was  the  object  of  the  girl's 
chief  admiration  and  wonder.  It  was  suggested  that  she 
might  be  like  the  teacher.  The  habit  of  self-denial  was 
so  rooted  that  it  had  never  occurred  to  her  to  think  that 
she  could  express  any  of  her  own  longings  for  better  things 
than  heredity  had  bestowed  on  her.  When  the  new  idea 
was  presented  to  her  imagination,  her  indifference  to  life 
and  to  her  own  place  in  it  fell  from  her.  Perseverance  and 
self-control  asserted  themselves.  The  fresh  interest  aroused 
responsive  virtues  which  overcame  the  difficulties  of  a 
seemingly  impassable  road  until  the  girl  became  a  creature 
expressing  herself  in  useful  work,  in  health,  and  in  morality 
attained  solely  because  she  had  abandoned  the  old  rut  of 
self-denial.  Tolstoy's  complete  day  of  work,  pleasure,  and 
rest  was  incorporated  into  this  girl's  life  by  combination 
of  the  very  forces  he  believes  destructive  to  that  end. 


1912]     Matthews:  Tolstoy's  ''What  Is  To  Be  Done?"       259 

The  ideal  civilization  toward  whicli  the  centuries  have 
been  striving  cannot  be  brought  upon  the  world  suddenly 
by  a  great  cataclysmic  change.  Generations,  perhaps,  must 
pass  before  the  race  reaches  even  the  intellectual  and  spirit- 
ual level  made  possible  economically  for  the  present  age. 
We  are  bound  down  by  the  heredity  of  the  barren  days.  In- 
dividuals will  hinder  progress  by  their  selfishness,  super- 
stitions, and  bigotries.  Even  now  hypocrisy  assumes  to 
spread  the  social  virtues,  threatening  their  existence  by 
petrifying  them  into  conventionality  and  complacency. 
Vices  and  outworn  traits  can  be  altered  only  by  a  long,  long 
process  of  new  suggestions  giving  the  incentive  of  vivid 
interest  to  conduct  exemplifying  the  higher  motives.  Society 
must  direct  its  power  of  control  toward  making  the  world 
a  safe  place  for  self-expression.  Love  of  light,  beauty,  and 
joy  should  find  means  of  gratification  not  ending  in  vice  and 
degradation.  Conditions  of  work  should  be  created  for 
making  labor  a  means  of  interested,  happy  sharing  in  the 
activities  of  the  earth. 

Groping  about  for  happiness  by  the  application  of  old 
formulae,  society  finds  itself  overtaken  by  a  new  world  pre- 
senting an  environment  of  economic  plenty  to  which  the 
old  rules  do  not  apply.  Tolstoy  in  What  Is  To  Be  Donef 
reflects  the  attitude  of  humanity  that,  surprised  and  be- 
wildered, has  not  yet  recognized  the  face  of  a  friend.  The 
old  age  of  brute  force,  deficit,  and  enforced  self-denial  is 
vanishing.  That  we  have  as  yet  proved  ourselves  to  have 
developed  equally  is  to  be  questioned,  and  Tolstoy  is  the 
most  emphatic  challenger  of  our  social  spiritual  state  that 
the  century  has  produced.  "The  sun  is  already  setting  be- 
hind the  wood,  and  the  ricks  are  not  yet  in  order;  there  is 
still  much  to  be  done." 


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